The Sky is Falling
by xXfireXflyXx
Summary: To atone for his sins, Loki is sent back to Earth, powerless, in order to learn to appreciate the human race. Max, a small town grad student, has finally decided to kick her worthless roommate out, and needs another one to afford her apartment. Awful part-time jobs, college weirdness, and obscure feelings ensue during the God of Mischief's quest to gain his powers back.
1. Get out

"_Banished to Earth as Thor was? You cannot be serious. I would rather whither in an Asgardian cell-"_

"_You will learn to appreciate the humans you sought to dominate, Loki," Odin informed him as they stood at the edge of the realm. "I withdraw your power of insight, your strength, and your likeness to the other gods. You will live as a human, mortal and ordinary, in a place where no one will recognize your recent deeds. When you finally come to understand their worth, your powers will return."_

"_I cannot appreciate humans-"_

"_Then you will grow old with them and die as one of them," the All-Father sighed. "No one will find you there, no armies or warriors… You will be safe."_

"_So this is out of the goodness of your heart?" Loki croaked, his eyebrows shooting up as he eyed the man he once called 'father' lazily. The old man looked grim, worn, as though weary from all his long years of life. _

"_I am doing this out of love," Odin told him, and then added, "and a need to see you learn your lesson. You will be welcomed back when your penance is served."_

"_This place holds no welcome for me anymore," he sneered, but he could already feel the pull of Odin's magic. His energy sapped out of him slowly, and darkness encroached on his vision. He tried to call out the man's name, sweet-talk his way out of this mess, but he was already gone, surrendered and lost to Odin's almighty will._

* * *

Right. So it was finally time for Max to put her foot down. The piles of beer cans, the dirty laundry, and the unwashed (and molding) dishes had gnawed away at her for far too long; she had reached her breaking point. She'd been fair up until this point, and she had tried just about everything possible to communicate her displeasure with her current roommate's messiness. She had left little sticky notes on and above the mess. She had sat him down and calmly explained that if he was going to rent one of her rooms, he had to at least try to be a little neater. She threatened to kick him out if he couldn't get his act together. She whined, nagged, begged, asked politely, and nothing seemed to get through to him.

Max didn't particularly want a roommate. Here she was, twenty-six, and still living with someone. She had been a graduate student for about two years now, halfway through her Master's degree in Museum Studies, and she thought at this point she wouldn't need a roommate to afford her apartment. Yet, here she was, working two jobs – one as a TA and another at the campus book store – and she still struggled to keep up with the rent for her two bedroom apartment. Why she had chosen to get a place with more bedrooms than she needed was still a mystery to her, but when she found it during her third year of her undergraduate art degree, it was too much of a steal to turn down. She and a friend signed a lease, and with two people paying, the rent was certainly manageable. It helped that their landlord was a total gem, and she absolutely loved the place.

Two years later, her close friend graduated and went off to bigger and better things in New York City. This left Max alone in the small town that was only an hour away from the other small town that she had grown up in, and she had no idea what she was going to do with her slightly useless Art History degree. She didn't want to move back home, and when she found a number of her friends were returning to do graduate work at their small college in Masonville, it only made sense to stay where she felt the most comfortable. So, she applied to go into Museum Studies, hoping that would give her enough of a beefed up education in order to get a grown-up job. She took half a year off before she started schooling again to save some money as she worked full-time at the campus bookstore, and then threw herself back into her studies once the new semester started.

Her story wasn't particularly unique amongst her various friends; she grew up near Masonville in a family of four, had a brother in the military, and both parents were still married. She liked to play darts and drink beer at the pub, secretly devoured most reality television programs, and had no idea where she was going with her life. Yes, she knew what she liked to study, and art had always been her thing, but when her undergraduate came to an end, she had literally no vision of her future other than lingering in Masonville until she figured it out. So, that was exactly what she did, and she definitely wasn't alone in that decision.

For the first half of the year, it was easy to keep up with her rent, and she enjoyed a spare bedroom that she transformed into an office. However, once she was actually back in school, bills started adding up and Max began working less. Utilities, internet, cable, rent, eating out and everything else seemed to add up faster than she was expecting, and she knew she might lose her beloved apartment if she didn't find someone to share the financial burden. However, she felt a twinge of possessiveness over her home; she had painted it, shaped it, and spaced it to perfection, which meant she was definitely going to keep her name on the lease. Therefore, she opted to sublet the second bedroom for a reasonable price, which had been one disaster after another.

The first one had been an older woman who wanted to rent the room while she got her divorce sorted out. She spent the majority of her time on the phone screaming at her soon-to-be ex-husband, and then brought her kids and dog over at obscure hours of the day, only to leave them for Max to mind if she needed to get more cigarettes. She barely lasted three months before Max kicked her out. The second was another woman roughly Max's age, but she was far too much of a partier for her liking. Max enjoyed having a good time, but listening to house beats whooping on the girl's sound system all day long followed by parties three or four times a week while she was working night's took its toll, and she ended that arrangement six months later.

Finally, after another few months of living off Kraft Dinner and water, Max decided it was time to bring in another roommate. Thinking she simply had poor luck with women, she put up an ad asking for a male roommate, and a few weeks later a guy named Josh replied to her ad. She interviewed him, and was pleased to see he was a fellow grad student in his final year looking for a place to crash. It wasn't a permanent solution to her rent problem, but he seemed fairly mellow and was ready to pay his first and last month's rent, so she signed him on. They certainly got along better, sharing an interest in random internet humour and a love for French Toast Sundays, but he was incredibly sloppy. It was easy to overlook for a while, but after five months of picking up after him and attempting to get the message through in any way possible, Max had had enough.

He was a good enough guy, but he had been late on rent once already and was a total slob, and she didn't need that kind of stress. Summer was coming to an end, and with her new school term starting and her first semester as a teaching assistant looming on the horizon, she didn't need to deal with bullshit back home. Her last ultimatum had been a week ago: clean up or get out. So far, the apartment looked as messy as ever, if not more, and he had his week to shape up. It was going to be difficult, because she actually liked the guy, but this wouldn't be the first time she had kicked someone out, and she suspected it wouldn't be the last.

So, dressed to impress in an old college t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts, she found him sprawled out across his bed, laptop on his stomach with the sounds of some cartoon emanating from it.

"Josh," she started, leaning on the doorframe with her arms folded, "I think we need to…"

Max trailed off, detecting something in the air, and her eyes narrowed, "Why does it smell like smoke in here?"

He finally paused his show and set his laptop aside a little so that she could see his face. He shrugged, "It must be from my clothes."

"You promised you wouldn't smoke in the house!"

"It's my clothes!" he reiterated, "You know I wouldn't!"

"Right," she sighed, rolling her eyes. That did it. She wasn't going to just stand there while he lied to her, "Pack your stuff… I'm done with you living here."

"What?"

"I told you that if you didn't start cleaning your shit up, you're moving out," she informed him, "and here we are, and you still haven't done anything. So… Pack your stuff and get out. Pretty sure Irma will back me up on this."

Irma. Her landlady disliked Josh's mess more than she did, and Max was fairly sure the older woman would have no issues getting some sort of paperwork together that would justify their reasons for kicking him out.

"This is bullshit," Josh grumbled as he sat up, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair. "You're kicking me out right before the term starts again? Seriously, Max?"

"I can't deal with you during the year," she argued. "I'll have enough on my plate, and I don't need to be cleaning up after you all the time. Pack your stuff."

"We signed a contract-"

"You already broke the contract last month when rent was late," she told him plainly, her eyes traveling the walls of the small bedroom to assess any damages he might have caused on top of being a slob. "It's null and void. Get out."

"Okay, you don't have to be a bitch about it," he groaned, rolling his eyes as he started picking up random shirts and boxers. "I'll come back for the furniture-"

"All of this is mine, actually," Max countered as she watched his start shoving things in a backpack. "The bed, the desk, the bookshelf and the dresser are all mine and Irma's, so it all stays."

She continued to watch him dart around the room, gathering up clothes and papers and stuffing them into the bags they used for groceries. She could hear him muttering under his breath, but at this point she didn't care.

"I can help you pack the car," she offered, but he shook his head. So, she turned back down the hall and decided to give him a bit of privacy as he packed up.

It wasn't a particularly big apartment, and when she had a roommate, they usually saw a lot of each other. The kitchen and living room consisted of one giant room with an island lined with barstools dividing the area. The kitchen appliances were fairly basic, and she had a mismatch of couches in front of a large television set that used to belong to her brother. There was only one other hallway, at the end of which was a bathroom that she normally shared with her roommate, and then bedrooms on either side. They were roughly equal in size, though hers was perhaps a smidgen larger.

Max tucked her feet under her as she settled onto the couch, picking at her nails as she listened to him banging around in his room. Zippers were being zipped, bags thrown into the hallway, and she peered over the back of the couch to see him stalk down into the bathroom and return moments later with all of his stuff. It only took him two trips to put everything in his car, and she met him at the door on his way back in.

"Throw the rest of it out, I don't care," he muttered as he unhooked the apartment's key from his mass of others. "You know… It's really fucking annoying that you never bought any of the dish soap but did dishes _all_ the time, and when you clean to your shit music, I want to blow my brains out."

"Right," she snorted, snatching the key from his hand and tucking it into her pocket. "Good luck with life, asshole."

He grinned a little, and she wasn't quite sure if he had been joking with her or not. Regardless, it was good to see him out, and since they weren't friends, she wouldn't have to interact with him again anytime soon. Good riddance.

Max strolled back to her now empty room and wrinkled her nose. It was still a mess even with him gone, and it definitely stunk of smoke. She had nothing against smokers, but she didn't want it seeping into the carpets and walls. They were on the bottom floor of the building; it was so easy to just step outside and have a smoke, and then come back in! She rolled her eyes. He had left his linens and a few cords, but otherwise he cleared out pretty quick. It was clear that he didn't really have a lot of stuff to begin with, which made her wonder how he could be such a pig in his own space. The room clearly hadn't been cleaned since he moved in, and she decided it would just be easier if she hired a company to come sort it out and clean.

She grabbed her laptop from her room and sauntered back to the couch, plopping down and opening it up. First thing she did was check her finances. They had been relatively stable during the summer, but she knew tuition was going to be withdrawn soon, and her numbers would deplete extensively. Rent would follow shortly, and if she didn't find someone to help her out, she'd be paying the entire thing on her own. Nibbling on her lower lip, she opened a new tab and began cruising for ads online for anyone renting in Masonville.

It wasn't an especially big town, but big enough to host a small college and an affiliate school. Both had roughly three thousand undergraduates between them, and about nine hundred graduate students. It was located in the north end of town, farther away from residential family homes, with the downtown core dividing them further. It had a fairly vibrant local culture, and it was definitely bigger than the place where she grew up, but nothing that would draw in serious renters. Most people looking were students, and around this time of the year, they were already sorted and settled into their rental units for the year.

There weren't any new requests for housing with the college website, so Max pulled up a Word document and typed one up. She was bound to reach more people if she placed a few ads up around campus and student hotspots. So, she pulled her lengthy brown hair up and into a messy bun with the elastic around her wrist, and then quickly typed up something that might catch people's eye.

_WANTED: Roommate to sublet room in two bedroom apartment_

_Furnished. First month's rent exempt. Must be __neat_.

Hmm. She searched through her files and produced the usual picture of the room that she used for ads, and went about making the page look a little more visually appealing. With that done, she added her contact information, sighed, and went to print it back in her room.

She couldn't believe she was doing this again… It felt like it was just yesterday she was writing up an ad for someone and Josh came along, and here was she in the same position a few months later. Were her standards impossible, or was she just picky? It was a question she thought to herself frequently over the course of her roommate adventures, but then she decided she wasn't. She had a right to be comfortable in her own house, damn it!

Well, in Irma's house, but her name was on the lease, so she had the seniority here! Christ. She watched the printer spit out a few sheets of paper with her ad on it, screeching and whining as it did. Once the ink had dried, she gathered them in a stack and grabbed her purse. Time to get them up: rent loomed ominously in the near future.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Yeay for my second Loki fanfic! This one will be a little on the lighter side, full of awkward situations and an unfurling romance that makes me giggle. Erhm. Sorry, just excited. **

**I know it's a fairly standard storyline – Loki loses his power and is sent to Earth – but I'm going to try to keep this as fresh as I can. In a way, I'll be playing out some of my own university experiences, some of my part-time job frustrations, and everything else. Though, I'm not in the US, and it's not a self-insert female character, trust me. That'd be weird. Anyway. I've had a roommate like Josh, and it's annoying as all hell when people don't respect some sort of general cleanliness in the shared spaces... Makes you want to staple things to their face.  
**

**I purposefully left Masonville's location in the US out because I'd like it to be a small town in just about anywhere along the northern states. It's our stereotypical small town college place that could be just about anywhere, really. **

**I wanted to write this in tandem with my other Loki fanfic because that one is a little more serious, with tougher situations (relatively speaking) for everyone involved. This one will, as I said, be a little on the lighter side and have a few more comedic situations.**

**Rated M for mature language use and mature sexual situations in later chapters! Woo!  
**

**We'll get to see our favourite baddy in the next chapter, which I've already started. Hopefully I'll have it up sometime this week, and we'll get rollllling with this! **

**I always appreciate feedback, and characterization tidbits about Loki (as I'm a bit of a noob), and even Max will always be taken into consideration! Much love!**


	2. Welcome to Masonville

He hated this place. Loki hated how much Thor adored the human race. He hated how they had triumphed over him with a band of mutants and a few specialized humans. He hated how small they were, how weak they were, how they had trembled beneath him once, and now barely looked twice at him as he stalked through the streets. At this very moment, he hated how sickeningly alike they were, and the fact that there was nothing he could do about it.

Two days prior, Loki awoke in a crater somewhere in the woodlands of Earth. He felt shaken, tired, and it took a great deal of strength to draw himself up. It was quite plain that Odin had gone through with it, and on his word stripped Loki of his various hard-earned powers. It had taken years of his life to perfect his ability to control magic, his perception of the feelings and emotions of those around him, and to hone his body into a utility for fighting. Gone. All gone.

His body ached as he stumbled through the forest, tripping here and there when it was dark. He had greater hunger and thirst than he had ever known, and would not have survived had he not been found by a man and his son while they were inspecting the property line of their land. They brought him in, fixed him up, gave him new clothes, and his woman fed Loki enough to make him burst. They were a family of modest means, and yet they sought to give him to best comfort they had. The boy slept on the couch while Loki had his bed, and the woman was ever so kind whenever he asked for something else to eat or drink. His body felt insatiable, as though he hadn't actually eaten anything in years. Was this what it was like to be human? Was this what it felt like to live in mortal flesh? It was so easily frayed; he had cut his finger on the edge of a sheet of paper, and sat stewing in his own rage as it bled relentlessly, not healing until he covered it with something.

He hated their kindness, this family of rural workers. Peasants. They had little idea how close he had come to enslaving all of them, handing them over to a greater race who would cow them into submission with pain and brutality. Instead, there was nothing. These people carried on living in their rural home, barely aware of the rest of the world let alone his previously godly status.

Now, he wasn't an idiot. He wouldn't turn away charity because of his pride, particularly in his vulnerable state. So, he accepted their hospitality for a night, and was then given a lift into the nearest 'big' town at his request. They arrived at a place called Masonville: puny, pathetic, and crawling with young adults. He deduced based on the accent and mannerisms that he had found himself somewhere back in America, but this was a far cry from New York. What he would have given to be in the moderately architecturally brilliant Germany once more; instead, he found himself staring at the county's largest wooden bear carving riddled with bright graffiti. His rescuer explained that it was a college town, and it was about the time of year that all the students started to filter back in. Loki listened politely as the car rattled along the shoddily paved street, but he had a million other thoughts on his mind.

Odin had informed him how to get his powers back – he needed to come to appreciate the human race. It seemed quite simple, but as he stepped out of his rescuer's beaten up vehicle in this tiny town and looked around at the pathetic people milling about, he realized this was going to be a harder task than he previously thought. How was he supposed to appreciate a race of beings that were so small? They had no natural powers of their own, and none of the people in his immediate vicinity could compare to Natasha Romanov, that bow-carrying Clint fellow, or even the retort-weidling S.H.I.E.L.D agent he murdered. No, they were all so ordinary, so boring… and Loki was one of them now. Ugh. He wanted to vomit right there on the sidewalk.

Once he was alone, Loki stood still, clad in a ridiculous pair of ill-fitted jeans and a short-sleeved shirt – bright red – and realized he was finally out of his element. He had gone to worlds beyond the realms, and yet here, without any of his powers, he was a complete mess. As he strolled along the street, irritated that the sneakers didn't quite fit his feet right, he mentally went through a list of what he would need to do in order to survive here. First, he needed funds to purchase goods with. He had set up an account on his previous trip to Midgard, but obviously he had zero access to it currently. That would be the first step – access to money. There wasn't much saved, but he knew it would be sufficient to get him away from this ridiculous town.

Unfortunately, the town had two different banking institutions, and Loki had zero clue as to where his funds were stored. So, he essentially flipped a coin in his head and chose one of them, hoping that he would be able to charm his way through this ordeal. A little bell tolled once he was through the door, announcing his arrival, and he stalked up to the nearest open register to speak with someone.

"Hey, pal, there's a line…"

He glanced back over his shoulder and saw three people standing in a neat row, an elderly man glaring at him from the front. Was he serious? Loki could have pounded him into the ground a day ago, and now he had to smile and wait his turn at the end of a line? Jaw clenched, he stalked to the end and waited, arms crossed, death glares at the back of everyone's head as the line moved at a glacial pace. Really, they didn't have more than one person manning the stations?

Fifteen minutes later, his rage at its boiling point, and Loki finally found himself speaking to someone directly.

"What can I help you with today, sir?"

He appraised the woman behind the counter quickly: plump, lipstick a shade too dark, and hair that looked as though Thor had electrocuted her. Odin… How was he supposed to take anyone on this planet seriously?

"Hello there," he peered at her nametag quickly, "Eleanor. I am not from around here, and I've opened an American bank account previously, but I can't access it at the moment."

"Oh, are you visiting from England?" she asked, her eyes sparkling a little as she held out her hand, "Just give me your debit card and we'll get it all sorted out for you."

He blinked twice, and then cleared his throat, producing what he hoped would be a charming smile, "You see, my … debit card has been stolen. My room was broken into, and I'm missing a lot of important documents."

"Oh, hun, have you called the police?"

"I… No, no, it's not important," Loki continued, in no mood to get sidetracked. "I was hoping I might just be able to give you my name and you could retrieve something that might give me access."

"Well, if you're with us," she started, clacking away at a keyboard, eyes flickering over an ancient looking piece of computer technology, "I can bring you up in the system and issue you a new card. Can I see some I.D?"

"My documents were stolen."

"I understand," she told him, "but I can't just give out bank information. I need to see something with your name on it."

"It's under Erik Selvig," Loki insisted, leaning around as he tried to see her screen. "I assure you that's who I am."

"I don't think you're a liar," the woman told him. "You've got that nice, honest look about you… I'm good at guessing that." Apparently not. "However, I need some identification. It's policy."

Loki stared at her, hard, and wished he had just a smidgen of his power left. He could have intimidated her, or simply persuaded her to issue him a card through the use of his empathy. However, she merely stared back, solid on her stance, and he knew this was going to require more patience than ever.

"Can I speak with someone who has a little more authority in this institution?"

"I can grab my manager," she informed him, her tone a little stiffer than before. "Give me a minute."

Four hours later, Loki departed from the ridiculous bank ready to throttle someone. The manager had been no more help than that ridiculous woman was, but he did have a few options for Loki. He couldn't bring up the name without any identification, but he did direct Loki next door to a place that manufactured identification cards. Loki had to fill out about ten forms with false information, and then sit for a picture and wait for it to be printed up on some stupid card. He realized after that he had 'Loki Odinson' printed on the card, not Eric Selvig, but that would hardly matter.

He instead went to the other bank with his new identification in hand, ready to find his money, only to learn – shockingly – that there was no Loki Odinson in their system. Two hours later, he left the bank with a credit card of his own, which he learned was technically the bank's money, but he certainly didn't care. He would be off this planet before there were any repercussions for his actions: that much was clear. There wasn't more than two thousand dollars on the account, but he decided that would be enough to get him somewhere in this country where actual technology existed, and he could go from there.

However, after that horrible ordeal with the banking system, he was absolutely famished. He couldn't have eaten more than a few hours prior, but he was starving already. This human body was pathetic. So, he made a detour to what appeared to be an eatery of some kind, clean and full of booths and old men with steaming cups of liquid. He sidled into a booth, his new credit card on the table in front of him, and then plucked up a menu from between the salt and pepper shaker.

"Can I start you off with a coffee?"

Loki flinched at the appearance of a young waitress; it took a highly skilled person to sneak up on him before, and now he was startled by the slightest of things. He looked her over once: small, blonde, chewing gum.

"Yes, please," he replied, watching her scribble something on a pad of paper. "Do you have something I might be able to read?"

He'd need something to pass the time. She glanced up at him, and then grinned, her cheeks tinting a little, "I'll bring you the paper. Take your time with the menu."

Well, it was good to know he still had an effect on some kinds of people, even if it only consisted of teen girls. He smiled a smile he hoped came off as charming once more, and she flitted off to fetch him a newspaper and his drink. When she returned, he asked her for the breakfast special, as it was the biggest thing on the menu, and she made some flip comment about him having a big appetite. He smiled in return, but was already engrossed with the story on the front page. They had reported on the crater he left in his wake upon arrival to Midgard. His eyes quickly skimmed the article, pleased with himself; he was clearly the biggest thing to happen to this town in a century.

He honed in on something near the end of the article, reading feverishly. An expert from Earth's space department had been called in to investigate the crater, as many believe it came from some sort of space debris. Space. An expert. This expert would then deliver his findings to a professor at the local college, another researcher from the space program, who would analyze the data. _Finally_, there was someone around here who spoke his language! Perhaps he could get in touch with the space department through that man, and then… somehow… get himself back into space.

Loki sighed irritably. It was a longshot at best, but perhaps one he should risk taking. If he went to a large city, somewhere like New York or Washington, he ran the risk of being identified by someone from the Avengers, or any other group that was affiliated with them. From there, he could be arrested, and with no power to protect himself, he may end up in an Earth prison before his sentence here was finished. They had no right to lock him away, obviously, but who would listen to him? No one would believe _this_, right here, was his actual punishment from the All-Father. They would all want their revenge.

Perhaps it was best if he remained in this tiny town for a little while longer. It wouldn't hurt him to have an ally who was in touch with Earth's space station – that was to be his new quest. From there, he would see about finding a top scientist to find a way to subvert Odin's magic – a daunting task – and then get away from this planet to plan his next move. Yes. It was brilliant!

He jumped again when the little waitress reappeared.

"Twitchy," she laughed, setting three plates down in front of him. "Can I get you anything else?"

Loki eyed the runny eggs, the slightly under-toasted bread, and the greasy bacon, hating the way his stomach roared victoriously.

"No, that's fine," he told her, his coffee still untouched. A thought struck him. "Oh, actually!"

She was back in a flash, a warm smile on her face, and he pointed to the name of the college researcher in the paper, "I need to speak with him. Where do you think I might find him?"

The girl leaned down, examining the page, and then said, "Oh, you should just go to St. Judith's and find his office. I bet you wouldn't even need an appointment."

"St. Judith's?"

"Yeah, that's the college we've got here," she explained, her eyes darting down at the space beside him on the bench. Do _not_ sit down, wench. "I can give you directions if you want?"

"Yes, please, thank you," Loki agreed. She flittered off to grab him a map, and he couldn't resist digging into the horrible food in front of him. The presentation was atrocious, but it was actually quite divine tasting. Perhaps that was why business remained so strong. By the time she returned, he had already polished off half of his bacon and most of his eggs, his mouth full as she slid onto the seat across from him.

"Okay, so here's the route I would take…"

He watched her pen draw a line from their location up to the marked college; it was a straight line. She could have just told him to up the road. He feigned some sort of interest as he continued to eat, more interested in the toppings for his toast than what she was saying.

"Will you be in town for a bit?"

"Sorry?"

She repeated his question as he swallowed his most recent mouthful, and he cleared his throat, nodding, "For a little while, yes."

"Maybe you can take me out for a drink sometime…"

"Maybe not."

He watched her face fall at the immediate rejection, and he felt no desire to coddle her. However, he also knew it wouldn't be good to make a list of enemies here too, so he leaned a little closer, "You just seem a little young for me. Find me in a few years… Oh, and take this."

He handed her his credit card, unsure of what to do with it himself, and he noticed she had perked up a little bit. She slid out of the booth and disappeared. Loki retrieved the map and gave it a once over. This town was miniscule. It could fit in Asgard ten times over with room to spare! The college campus appeared to take up the majority of the north end, which meant it might be a tad difficult to find this professor, but he was sure he would get there eventually.

When the waitress circled back with his credit card, he shoved it in his pocket and quickly devoured the remainder of his meal. Shockingly, he was still hungry by the end of it, but not enough to get him sidetracked from his assignment. Once he was back outside, he wrinkled his nose, glaring up at the sun and the heat it produced. It must have still been the summer season; when he had his powers, he wasn't this affected by the change in weather, but from the slightly cooler morning to the heated afternoon, he found himself incredibly uncomfortable in his borrowed jeans. He noticed most of the men were in much shorter pants, at least up to their knee, and he realized that was the way to go. It certainly didn't help that his hair was down around his neck, trapping in the heat as he walked.

Focus. He couldn't become distracted with petty mortal feelings this early on in the game, though he did manage to steal a pair of sandal-type shoes from a shop's display as he walked. They certainly felt much better than the sneakers, which he left discarded on the sidewalk. He followed the pen markings on the map, occasionally stopping whenever a human car honked at him while he was halfway across the street. Couldn't they see he was on a mission? He barely paid them any attention, especially when he spotted a sign.

St. Judith's College for Liberal Arts and Science. What a mouthful. It took him less than a half an hour or so to walk the entire length of the town, and Loki soon found himself surveying this college. The campus was quite green with teenagers milling about. People on two-wheeled vehicles cycled by, and groups of students sprawled across the lawns. He wasn't sure if they were in school now or not, but that was hardly his concern. He needed to find this professor and charm him into a friendship as soon as possible.

However, as he stood on the campus, he was at a loss for where to go. There were signs everywhere to all sorts of buildings, but none of them were going to say the man's name on it. He eventually decided to head for the Information Building under the assumption that they might have something useful to tell him. He stepped through the doorway and into the cool building, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead, and then quickly took in his surroundings. Ugly colour on the wall, tile floors, and several prominent offices on the first floor. Loki opted for the one that was empty rather than the ones filled with groups of young people.

There was an older woman seated behind a desk, papers scattered everywhere, and a few empty chairs in front of her desk.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked as she clicked around on her computer, barely looking in his direction. His eyes narrowed at his insignificance, but he pushed through, needing only a new set of directions.

"I need to speak with Edgar Ludwick," he explained. "Can you direct me to where I might find him?"

"He's usually in the biology department," she told him as he finally looked away from the computer, "but he's gone to New York for the weekend. Do you have your student card?"

"My what?" Loki asked, "No, I'm not a student here."

"Oh," she looked him up and down once. "Well, he'll really only make appointments with students and faculty members. Bit of a private man. You'll have to find another way to make an appointment with him."

She returned her attention to the computer, completely dismissive in body language, and Loki felt his rage intensify. He may not have the strength of a god at this very moment, but he was sure he could pick up a chair and smash her face in with what little human power he had. He needed to be a student or a worker at this school to see this man – how absurd.

"So," he started, his voice tense, "how does one become a student at this institution?"

"Admissions office is across the hall," she told him, pointing to the office brimming with young people. "They'll have your application. If you'd like to start this September, it's due by the end of the week."

"What-"

"You can direct all your questions to admissions."

Ridiculous bint.

He stormed out of the office and across the hall, placing himself at the end of another very long line. Loki didn't surface again for another two hours, a overabundance of information floating around in his head.

He had sat down with a very patient gentleman at one of three desks, who explained the admissions process. They needed some high school transcript, but Loki formulated a convincing enough lie explaining he had gone to high school ten years earlier, and it seemed unlikely they still had his files. The man then told him he would need to do an aptitude test to assess his skill level, which was now booked for later in the afternoon. He needed to fill out his admission package, which seemed like a lot of paperwork, but he was assured it was easier than it appeared. The man spoke to him as though he was some timid creature creeping back from the wild to attend this esteemed college, which was also infuriating. He wasn't an idiot; there weren't any colleges on Asgard!

The man had also informed him that all the student residences were currently full, and he would need to find a place to live off-campus. He directed him to a board on the second floor, and Loki stood in front of it, application in hand, bright blue eyes wandering the sea of flyers. Most of them were for single bedrooms in already established houses, and he noticed people ripped the snippets of contact information off the bottom. There were only a few with pictures, and Loki zeroed in on one with a furnished bedroom already.

_WANTED: Roommate to sublet room in two bedroom apartment_

_Furnished. First month's rent exempt. Must be __neat__._

_Please contact Max for further details – 564-753-2159_

He ripped off this Max's contact information, along with a few others ones, and decided he would deal with that tomorrow. He had two thousand dollars to spend, and about fifteen hundred of it was going toward becoming a student at this terribly tiny, insignificant school. However, if he needed to pay a little here and there in order to get in touch with a space researcher, who could then get him connected to the right people elsewhere, he'd do it. Besides, it's not like he actually needed to attend classes or do anything that a student would do – he just needed an in.

* * *

Max jumped when she felt her phone vibrate in the pocket of her shorts, and she hastily pulled it out to answer it. She always felt super awkward whenever her phone went off in public, even if she was doing something as mundane as grocery shopping. The number that flashed across the screen wasn't something she recognized, but it was an area code from town, so she answered. After all, she _had_ posted her phone number around town two weeks ago, and she had been getting a lot of random calls from prospective roommates.

"Hello?"

She kept her voice down, ignoring the look a pair of teen girls gave her from down the aisle. Fuck off. If she wanted to talk on her phone, she could!

"Hi, can I speak to… Max?"

The voice on the other end was a man with an English accent, and Max swallowed thickly, immediately interested, "Yeah, this is she."

"Max?"

"Yup."

A silence followed on the other end, and she leaned down on the handle of her cart, "Still there?"

"Sorry, yes," he replied. "I'd like to have a look at your room for rent, if it's still available?"

So far, everyone that had come to look at it were creeps, so yes, yes it was still open.

"Yeah, it won't last long, but I guess you can come by." That was the better answer. She didn't want to seem overly desperate, despite the fact she was. She scratched at the back of her head, fingers digging through her bun to get at an itchy spot, "I'm at 15 Elms Drive, number two unit on the first floor. When are you free?"

"Whenever," he told her. "I'm seeing a few other places tomorrow morning… Why don't I come see yours around two?"

She nodded her head, despite the fact that he couldn't see her, and then grinned, "Yeah, sounds great. You got a name?"

"I do."

She rolled her eyes, "So can I have it?"

"Right… Loki. I'll see you tomorrow."

She almost cracked a joke at the unfortunateness of that name, but he had already hung up.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Firstly, thank you all for all the immediate support with reviews and alerts! It made my day, and I rushed to get through this so we can dive right in!**

**I could have easily done this chapter in about three paragraphs, but I kind of wanted to show Loki in incredibly mundane situations. Banking, college applications when you don't care, feeling hungry all the time… Welcome to being a human! I feel like he's got a really basic understanding of how life functions on Earth because he did work with people during his Avenger's debacle. However, when it comes to really boring, normal things, I think he will be thrown for a loop. Has he ever cooked a meal for himself before? Nope. Own a laptop? Nope. Screwed for college? Yessss. **

**I'm used to writing in the Harry Potter fandom, which means all the characters are British. I'm not, but I've grown up with Brits, and I'm fairly used to writing in a way that is indicative of a British 'style'. Shockingly, when it comes to writing Americans, I feel kind of awkward, despite sharing an accent. Working on it, I swearz!**

**We'll be getting Max and Loki together for their first meeting in the next chapter! Feedback is always appreciated and welcomed. Otherwise, see you next time! **


	3. Hey, I just met you

"Honey, I'm not sure if I like you having strange men over to look at the bedroom… Couldn't you make sure you had a friend over while they were there?"

"Mom," Max sighed as she straightened out a cushion, glaring at her cell phone on the kitchen island. Her mother's voice was a little crackly on speaker, but aside from that it was like she was actually standing there to lecture her, "I can handle myself. Irma knows I'm going to call at the end of the day to let her know that I've found someone… or if I haven't. So if I don't call, you know she'll come looking."

Ahh, Irma. The woman had become the voice of reason for just about every housing dispute she had with everyone. The elderly landlord had been a constant in her life since she started renting from her a few years back, and at this point she felt like family. Well, family that had the ability to throw her out on the street if she didn't have any money for rent. The woman was a gem, but she still needed to have a reliable tenant. All that aside, whenever her name came up in a conversation with either of her parents, it always seemed to mellow out any impending wave of trouble that was coming her way. Irma came to her rescue on a number of occasions, yet the older woman had no idea just how crucial she was to solving Max's parental insecurities about her living on her own.

"Well…" her mother trailed off, and she could vaguely hear her dad shouting something from the background. "All right, all right, I'll ask… Your dad wants to know if you've still got the baseball bat he bought you."

"Yup, right next to my bed," Max insisted, hands on her hips as she surveyed her obnoxiously neat apartment.

Seriously, it was like she was selling the place, not looking for a roommate. However, after the first few girls commented that her apartment seemed a little messy, she went about making sure she could keep it in better condition for the remainder of the week. It was now Saturday, and she had entertained stuck-up women, creepy men, and a few people that seemed somewhere between; none of them had done a thing for her yet. She wasn't about to kick out one roommate and then replace him with someone worse, so she was being pretty picky this time around.

"And you know what to do with that bat if he tries to get fresh with you?"

"Mom!" Max groaned, running her hands through her shoulder-length brown hair, wincing when she hit a tangle amongst the waves, "Can you stop with that! Not every guy out there is sniffing around to rape someone."

"Well, I read on the internet the other day-"

"Can you try not to believe everything you read on the internet?" she asked as she sauntered back toward her kitchen island, leaning against it as she spoke, "A lot of stuff on there is hard to prove. So just… Calm down, okay?"

"You know it's because I care, honey."

"Yeah, I know," she sighed, glancing at the clock above the stove. Almost two in the afternoon.

Her final roommate option for the week was supposed to be here within the next few minutes, and if he didn't work out, she had to call Irma and tell her she couldn't find someone. From there, the older woman insisted she would search for a replacement, but Max didn't necessarily want her fifty year old landlord sorting out her new living partner, and would prefer if it could be left in her hands.

"Mom, I have to go," she said suddenly. "He'll be here soon."

"Text me how it goes," her mom insisted, and Max rolled her eyes for the final time.

"Yup, will do."

"I love you!"

"I love you too," she replied automatically. "Talk soon."

"Bye! Your dad says bye!"

"_Bye_," Max ground out, hastily reaching for the disconnect button before the woman could say anything else.

She loved her parents, but sometimes they could get a little paranoid about her living by herself in what they considered a 'big city'. Masonville was _not_ a big city. That wasn't to say crime didn't happen in a small town, but in all the years she had been at St. Judith's for school, she had heard about one robbery at a liquor store by a couple of teens: nothing serious. So, while her mom's worry was always coming from a good spot, it was at the point where she found it incredibly annoying and preferred to tune it out.

Another quick glance at the clock. She pursed her lips and quickly darted back to the bathroom, checking herself over in the mirror. There wasn't any reason that she was nervous for meeting with her two o'clock appointment other than the fact he sounded good looking on the phone. Bit of a stupid observation, yes, but she had a thing for accents, and how often did a British one croon at her through the phone in Masonville? Never. Well, maybe _croon_ was a little strong of a word, but she had a feeling he could sound delicious saying something as boring as 'toast' or 'pie'. With that in mind, she wasn't sure if she wanted some guy who made her nervous living with her, because that could possibly make for an uncomfortable living situation too.

So, she hadn't necessarily dressed up for him, but at least she showered that morning and shaved her legs. She felt a little silly in her denim shorts and checkered t-shirt, but at least she looked half-decent. It was summer, which meant it was the time for baggy shorts and t-shirts that had no shape to them; no one was in Masonville during the summer, which meant there was no one there to judge her, and therefore she could spend a few months looking like a complete slob if she wasn't working. Unwashed hair, unshaven legs, and the same pair of shorts for six days in a row was _totally_ justifiable during the summer. However, if some hot guy was coming to her apartment, she figured she might as well put a little effort in.

Hey, she was in denim, okay, so shut up. She glared up at her brain, which was currently spewing her mother's voice that she ought to cover up her long legs, but this wasn't the 1930s, and she considered the length of her shorts fairly conservative at midway down her thigh. Acceptable, she decided as she studied herself in the mirror, just acceptable. Mascara was usually the extent of her make-up routine, and occasionally some sort of concealer if she had a random pimple wreak havoc on her skin – usually on her chin area. Otherwise, she was barefaced as usual, and her hair wasn't chucked up in the normal bun, but instead loose around her shoulders. Acceptable once again.

The knock at the front door made her jump, and she hastily hurried down the hallway, pausing only for a second to give the room a once over. She had cleaned out all of Josh's shit in a day or so with the help of a friend, and had been Febreezing the living daylights out of that room ever since. The window was constantly open to get the smell wafted out, and once it was clean, she thought it actually looked really presentable. It wasn't much of a room, but you couldn't expect a room that would fit a king sized bed in a two bedroom apartment: never going to happen, especially for a student.

Max came to a halt at the door and took a breath to compose herself, and then quickly opened the door. Oh, fuck, he was hot. Standing before her now was a tall man, at least six feet compared to her five seven, with black hair swept back into a small ponytail and bright blue eyes. He had a pair of sunglasses on his head, a dark green t-shirt beneath, a pair of khaki shorts, and flip-flops to finish it off.

He smiled a little, which made her reel her lower jaw back up, and she quickly cleared her throat, "Hi, Loki, right?"

Was she saying that correctly? She hadn't ever met anyone with that sort of name; pretty much everything around here was all-American and simple, and that was the way most people liked it.

"Yes, hi," he replied, that familiar, smooth, accented voice making her stomach knot uncomfortably. "Max, was it?"

"Yeah," she held out her hand, which he shook quickly. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you just stand there… Come on in."

She quickly stepped to the side to let him enter, and then shut the door behind him. He stood in the middle of the living room, taking in the sights around him, and Max felt a little bit awkward just watching him judge her apartment.

"So, this is the common area," she explained, gesturing between the kitchen, its island, and the television area. "Pretty much everything here is shared, along with the bathroom."

"Right…" he trailed off, squinting a little at her television set-up. Normally people were asking things at this point about cable and internet and those extra costs, but he was remarkably quiet. "This seems fine."

"Good," Max said brightly, stepping around him and marching toward the small hallway that led to the bedrooms. "Your room would be down here."

He followed her down the dark hallway, and she stood in her doorway, which was directly opposite his in the hall, and then pointed in with her arm. She watched him move inside and examine the room from a point in the middle, making a full circle and then disappearing from her view to possibly have a look in the closet or out the small window.

God, he was good looking. She wasn't sure if she could even take him now, because she was going to spend at least a month not dressing like a grub because he was so attractive, and she _wanted_ to spend a day in disgusting clothes, damn it!

"You said there was a bathroom?"

Max flinched as his sudden reappearance, clearly too lost in her own thoughts about his physicality to notice he had finished looking at the room. She nodded quickly, hoping she covered that as smoothly as possible, and then gestured down the hall, "Yeah, just down there… We share it, but there's enough space for two. I've never had a problem before, anyway."

The man poked his head inside for a second or so, and then turned back to face her, "Seems fine. When can I move in?"

She blinked a few times, surprised that he was so candid about wanting the place, "Oh, well…"

"Do you have other people interested?" he asked, taking a step toward her. She didn't, but she definitely didn't want to let him know just how desperate she was. However, she didn't really need to reel him in, or anything, because he clearly wanted to sublet the room, and she had nothing to hold over him.

"Oh, a few," she told him. "Why don't we just chat quickly first?"

"About what?"

"Uh," she started, stepping out of her doorway and heading back toward the living room, "I just need to know you aren't a serial killer. You know, standard stuff."

He seemed to have no objections to a few questions, and Max took a seat at one end of the island on a barstool. Loki stood at the other end, his hands clasped behind his back.

"So, where are you from?"

* * *

After Loki had filled out the application for that ridiculous school, he handed it in to the admissions office, a signature on the bottom of it that indicated all the information was correct. Naturally, almost everything was a lie, but they had no way of proving it, so he wasn't concerned. They had his new banking information to bill him for everything, and from the calibre of idiocy he heard in the admissions office, he was guaranteed a spot as soon as they read his answers. The aptitude test followed late in the afternoon, and while he was at a bit of a loss for anything pertaining to American history and whatnot, he was sure he passed with shining colours when it came to the arithmetic and scientific issues. If anything, that was the department he needed to get into in order to converse with this Ludwick character regarding the space program.

When he had finished with all that nonsense, he hadn't the slightest clue what to do with himself. He eventually wandered back to the diner where he had eaten breakfast, and the same waitress was working. In need of a little advice for how to dress to blend with the rest of the humans in this tiny town, he asked if she could take him somewhere to buy new clothes. He argued that fashions were different in England, and he didn't feel as though he fit in. She was, of course, thrilled to have his company, and even asked her little boss if she could leave early to show a friend around. The girl, Grace, dragged him around to a few different shops, forcing him to try on various shirts and shorts, each time personally checking to see if they fit right, running her small hands of his torso just to be sure. He would have been flattered by the attention if she wasn't sixteen, and he did the polite thing when they were finished – he walked her home and left her at the front door with a pat on the arm, nothing more.

He had no need to be polite, no need to be civil, but he did so anyway. Perhaps if Odin saw him really making the effort – as he knew the All-Father was always watching – he might slowly relinquish some of Loki's former power as an incentive. However, he wasn't going to go so far as to indulge in a young girl's fantasies simply because he could; he certainly didn't need his power to know what she was thinking. She picked a sufficient amount of clothing for him, all of which he charged to the bank, along with a bag to hold it all in. Once he had dropped her off, he checked himself into a motel on the outskirts of town and slept on a horribly hard bed for a few hours that night.

He woke up angry – angry at how ordinary he felt, about his lack of strength, and about his sore feet from all the walking the day before. He managed to shrug it off just long enough to get himself ready and grab some breakfast at the motel, but he knew it would come back to gnaw at him sometime when he was alone again. The anger was so rooted now that he wondered if it would become a part of his character.

When he had finished some sort of morning routine, Loki prepared himself for the rest of the day, which would consist of visiting a few residences around town that could possibly turn into his temporary home. He had found several advertisements from the day before that interested him, and he used a payphone at the college to contact all the advertisers to arrange for a showing. Shockingly, most were willing to have him come by the following day, which meant they must have been desperate for someone to take the room. All of them except one were in basement apartments, and Loki immediately knew that he would dislike living underground after he went through the first showing. However, he dragged himself to each and every one, stiffly nodding and eyeing what those people called a bedroom with a skeptical gaze.

Every single home he went to seemed to assume that he was going to take their bedroom, and they immediately launched into discussions about when he could move in and how much things would cost. Eager humans were irritating humans, and Loki merely smiled and told them he wasn't interested. The final living space he intended to look at was with a woman named Max. He initially thought he would be seeing a man, given the name and whatnot, yet a woman answered the phone professing to be Max, so he went with what he had been given.

She was a pretty little thing, despite her unfortunate name, and when she greeted him at the door, she almost seemed a little stunned to see him. He worried she might turn into a jabbering sixteen year old, but once the initial shock wore off, she was a courteous hostess who showed off her apartment that was not underground, thankfully, and let him explore the spare bedroom. It wasn't much, and he didn't particularly like that they would be sharing so much of the eating area and the lavatory, but it would be fine for his purpose here. He didn't need a palace, but rather a place close to the college to rest his head.

However, when he asked how soon he could move in, he was a little annoyed that she did not immediately accept his offer. Instead, she wanted to 'talk' about things, which could never lead to anything good. The first question that came up when they squared off in the kitchen revolved around where he hailed from, which made Loki cringe, but he was determined to give her just enough to satisfy her curiosity, and assure her he wasn't a 'serial killer', as she so wonderfully put it.

Oh, if she only knew.

"I'm from England," he lied. Everyone seemed to think that was where he was from anyway, so it was probably the easiest thing to answer. She nodded, fiddling with a cellular device on the countertop.

"Cool," she said, "and you're here for college?"

"Yes."

"Graduate work?"

He frowned, having absolutely no idea what she was talking about. That didn't seem like something he could fib over quite as easily, and he shook his head, "No, this is… my first year of college."

"You're an undergrad?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up, "How old are you?"

Oh, what had he written on that application? In actuality, Loki was quite old indeed, and he could no longer accurately gauge the age of humans, aside from the little teen girl from the night before. She took his silence as discomfort, and she cleared her throat, "Sorry, rude question… I just… You look a little old to be an undergraduate."

"How old are you?" he inquired, quirking an eyebrow.

"Twenty-six."

"Well, so am I," he lied, shooting her a smile. "What a happy coincidence."

"Yeah," she sighed, clearly relieved that she hadn't offended him. "So what made you choose St. Judith's? It's a long way from England…"

Oh, this was going to take all afternoon. At least she wasn't entirely awkward, and he was sure he would be able to make conversation with her whenever they were home at the same time.

"I want to study under Professor Ludwick," Loki told him, which was a half-truth.

"What does he teach?"

Fuck. He thought back quickly to his previous conversation with that tart at the school, and then recalled something, "Biology."

"Oh, I see," she laughed. "Yeah, see, I was an art student in my undergrad… Pretty far from anything science."

"And what are you doing now?" he asked, more for the sake of the conversation than anything.

"I'm a third year grad student," Max replied, scratching the back of her neck. "I'm doing Museum Studies right now… Sort of… trying to tie my art degree into something I can use."

"Right."

"I'm also a T.A. for an undergrad intro course, so maybe I'll see you on campus," she chuckled, nodding her head a few times. "Have you made your schedule yet?"

"No," he replied, resting his hands now on the countertop between them, "but I only just finished my application yesterday. I suspect it will take a few days to process, and then… I'll… do the schedule."

"I bet it seems a bit random," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I mean, I know the British school system is so different, so if you don't get something, just ask me. It's a lot easier than it seems."

"Does that mean I can ask you as your non-serial killer roommate?" Loki inquired, leaning forward on the table and smiling a wide grin. Much to his pleasure, she blushed a little, clearly thrown by his forwardness, and then nodded. His grin grew, and he tapped the countertop, "Excellent. Should I sign something? I can be in within the day."

"Wow," she said, "that's really fast."

"Well, I'm living in a motel at the moment," he informed her, "and I'd rather be here, I assure you."

"Sure, yeah, that makes total sense," Max agreed, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I mean, if you're ready, I can have your contract emailed to me tonight and you can sign it when you move in tomorrow."

"Excellent."

He knew he would get his way. He could have moved in tonight, as the thought of spending one more night in that hotel on that hard bed was not something he wanted. However, there were still a few things he would need to pick up before he settled in somewhere, and he had the rest of the afternoon to do it.

"That was so much easier than I thought it would be," she told him as she rose from her chair, following him as he marched toward the door. He turned back to face her, and she nearly ended up running into him, which made her smile awkwardly. "Uhm, so, thanks for being normal. As long as you're not a total slob, I think we'll get along just fine."

"Glad to hear it," he murmured, holding out his hand once again. This seemed to be the thing humans did when they greeted one another, so it was starting to become habit. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," she said, gripping his hand firmly enough. "Yeah, sounds good."

They exchanged a smile one last time before Loki ducked out of the apartment, shutting the door softly behind him. There, one thing accomplished. He realized his punishment was all about taking little steps in order to free himself from it. Each small step led to the overall goal, and this was simply one step taken and handled well; hopefully, the rest would fall in line just as easily.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Uhm. So. I have a sequel planned already. In detail. Gaaahhhh. This story and my other new Loki one have kind of just been eating up my brain all week, and I've finally had the good sense to WRITE MY IDEAS DOWN, which I never do, so that way I'll be able to keep this sucker on track. **

**I know it wasn't a super exciting beginning to their relationship, but they're in that forced politeness thing that you get when you first meet someone. I had a roommate last year and we were in that phase for probably like… four months? Ugh. Once you're passed it everything is fine, and they'll get passed it much faster than I did. Max is so much more social than I am, so no worries there… I have so many ridiculous situations planned out for them, so… yeay!**

**Much love for all the support I've been getting for this story. I squee and giggle like a maniac with new reviews. I don't normally answer each one individually… I just never have, but I usually read them several times and want to hug you. Much love!**


	4. 21 Raccoons

Max couldn't believe how quickly she had managed to secure her roommate. This Loki character seemed fairly intent on moving in, and within two minutes of their chat yesterday he had somehow got her nodding along to him being her roommate. She didn't think too much about it, mostly because he wasn't a creep, he had been polite enough to answer a few questions, and she wasn't getting a weird vibe off him that she had felt with some of the other options she saw during the week. All in all, if Loki stayed the way he was now, she had a feeling she might be able to get through one year of graduate school with the same roommate. She wasn't going to say too much about it, because she didn't want to jinx anything, but the feelings were good.

Once Loki left the afternoon before, she immediately called Irma to tell her the good news. Her landlady was equally pleased that she had found someone to share the rent burden with, and emailed over copies of the subletter's lease for him to sign when he returned the following day. Apparently, he was living in a motel somewhere in town up until he found a place, which was pretty depressing. She couldn't imagine moving to a foreign place, and then spending the first few days in a motel with no one around for comfort. He didn't mention any friends or family in the area, only a desire to study biology with one of the teacher's at the college. If he did have any friends, he would have stayed with them, which Max then deduced it meant he was here absolutely alone.

Max couldn't imagine being in a new place alone. Most of her friends migrated to the nearest college, St. Judith's, with her once they finished high school, which meant she had a plethora of friends there to begin with, lost some and made more over the course of her time in Masonville. Therefore, as she sat in front of her television that night, stuffing popcorn in her mouth and watching a rerun of Project Runway, she made a vow to be as friendly and helpful toward her new roommate as possible. She wanted him to have a positive experience while he was here. For herself, Max wanted to finally be friends with one of her roommate's and give the relationship a bit of longevity.

So, that morning, she was up early and ready to help him move his stuff in, despite the fact she had no idea when he planned to show up. Clad in a college t-shirt and a fitted pair of shorts – he was still ridiculously attractive, don't forget – Max printed his lease and pinned it to the fridge with a magnet. And then waited. And waited. She waited for most of the day, lollygagging around on the internet and in front of the TV, constantly checking outside to see if he was waiting. Sometimes she thought she heard a knock, but when she popped over to the door, she found no one standing on the other side. He hadn't given her a time, but she thought he might like to get an early start on the day.

However, five o'clock rolled around and he still wasn't there, and she started to wonder if he decided that he didn't actually want the place. After all, he didn't sign anything last night, and he had no obligation to return except for the fact that he had given her 'his word' that he would move in. It was around this time that she started to feel a little bit stupid; what if he wasn't coming back, and she had spent all this time waiting for him like an idiot? Thankfully, she wasn't left to stew in those thoughts for too long after she started to think them, because just as her usual dinner-cooking shows started to flicker on, she heard a solid knock at the door.

Finally! She rolled her eyes a little as she pushed herself off the couch, doing a little skip as she crossed the room to the door. Sure enough, Loki stood on the other side, a smile on his lips, green eyes up to meet hers immediately.

"Hey," she greeted, hanging onto the door as she opened it for him. "Welcome home."

"Thanks," he grinned, a duffle bag thrown over his shoulder and a suitcase in his other hand. "I hope you weren't waiting for me or anything… I planned to come a lot earlier, but I spent most of today buying things."

"Oh, no, no," she lied, waving it off as he stepped inside. "I had a lazy TV day, so yeah… No big deal."

The wheels of his suitcase sounded noisily as he rolled them across the hardwood floor, and she followed him toward the bedroom.

"I've got your key made," she told him. "It's on the desk. I usually try to keep the door locked, especially when school starts up again… People tend to just be drunk and wander into random houses."

"Can't wait," he chuckled, grabbing the shiny metal key and slipping it into his pocket.

"So, do you need me to help move anything in?" she asked, curious to see if he had anything else with him aside from two bags. He glanced back over at her once he dropped his duffle on the bed, and then shook his head.

"No, this is my life in two bags right here," Loki told her, nodding a few times. "I suppose I'll need to buy more."

"Well, yeah," she laughed as she leaned against his doorframe, arms folded. "I mean, I'm sure you have your laptop and stuff with you, but you'll have to get a printer and books… Maybe we can see if we can get some shelves in."

"A what?"

"Shelves-"

"I heard that," he insisted. "The laptop… I don't have one of those."

She stared at him blankly; everyone owned a laptop. If you didn't, you had a desktop. Everyone who existed owned some form of computer technology, even her grandma. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her for a moment, and then shrugged sheepishly.

"I'm not really into a lot of technology," he admitted. "We… We always had one family… device that everyone used."

"Okay, uhm…." She trailed off, not really sure what he was going to do without one, "Well, you can do stuff on mine until you buy one."

"Thanks."

He zipped open the bag and began removing clothing, and for a while she simply watched him unpack. It didn't occur to her to leave, mostly because he showed no signs of discomfort with her presence, but for some reason she couldn't look away. It was like watching a train wreck; where was all the rest of his stuff? How did he expect to function in college with two bags of clothes?

"So, is there anything else coming from England?" she asked finally, eyes locked on him as he puttered around his room.

"No," he replied, shutting a drawer and shoving the empty duffle bag under his new bed. "Like I said, my entire life is right here."

"Are you like… a drifter or something?" she laughed, suddenly starting to question her decision to accept him. "Or just a minimalist?"

He sighed noisily, and she wondered if he might not be up for all this conversation. By nature, Max liked to chat with just about everyone; there was no way she could have worked in retail for this long without having some sort of a social persona. That being said, sometimes it didn't occur to her that not everyone wanted to talk to her as soon as they met her, and she contemplated leaving him be for the night to get settled in.

"Sorry, I just-"

"Right, here's the story so you don't go off on assumptions," he said frankly, staring her down, arms folded across her chest. He didn't sound angry, but rather more firm and to the point. "I spent my entire life with my family, and recently we had a … falling out. My father took everything from me as a result of our fight… No money, no belongings, no anything. I've come here to sort myself out, but I think it's fairly obvious I'm out of my depth in America." He paused, sucking in his cheeks for a moment as he observed her, "I could use a little guidance in the beginning."

"Of course," Max said quickly, the tension in her shoulders easing out at the thought of him not being a drifter. "Anything you need, I'm here to help you out."

"I knew I picked the right place to live," he told her. "Bathroom's just there isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah," she nodded, darting out of the way as he grabbed a pile of toiletries and scooted around her. "Uhm, just a thought with all that being said…"

She didn't want to sound insensitive, but he mentioned that his dad wasn't giving him money anymore. If that was something new, she had to wonder if he actually had any steady source of income. From the way he sorted out his room, she had a feeling he wasn't going to be as big of a pig as Josh was, but if he didn't have a lot of money to his name, that wasn't really going to matter.

"I don't want to pry, but I just want to make sure," Max told him when he stepped out of the bathroom, and she hastily moved to one side of the hall so he wouldn't feel as though she was cornering him. "You have got… some source of income, right?"

"Not at the moment, no," he informed her, "but I've got an American bank account somewhere… I just need to figure out where."

Christ. She swallowed thickly, not wanting this to fall to pieces before it even started, and then inched along after him back toward his room, "Would you consider getting a job? A lot of us take part-time things to help pay for school and rent."

"I may think about it," Loki told her, "but I have other priorities at the moment."

She wanted to tell him that _rent_ was definitely a priority that he should consider, but she had offered to cover the first month in her ad. So, if he needed a little while to sort his things out, she may come back in a month's time and they could have this discussion then. There was no sense in badgering him about things on the first night here.

"Hey, are you hungry?" Max asked after a few minutes of listening to him putter around his small room. "I was just about to start making dinner before you got here."

"I don't have anything to eat just yet."

"Oh, no, I know," she insisted, poking her head in. "I'll cook you something… Consider it my welcome feast to the apartment."

"Sounds lovely."

Jeez. Having a British guy around was probably going to make her feel great all the time; everything was wonderful, lovely, and excellent. She was sure it was just a matter of dialect, and he probably didn't even notice he was doing it, but it still managed to make her smile as she toddled off to the kitchen.

Unfortunately, the state of her fridge wasn't really something to smile about. She stared at the shelves, and then let out a disappointed sigh. Yes, she had gone grocery shopping two days ago, but do you want to know what she bought? Two boxes of Kraft Dinner, a bag of apples, and a head of lettuce. Last night she had ordered in pizza, and it seemed that tonight there wasn't going to be much of a feast prepared by her. Mind you, take-out was probably better than her cooking anyway, so Loki should consider himself lucky. So, instead of grabbing actual food, she snatched up the pile of take-out menus on the top of the fridge, and then sauntered back toward the bedrooms.

"Loki?" she called, "Would you rather do Chinese or Italian?"

There was a pause, during which she closely examined the slightly worrying looking picture of some noodle dish on the Italian menu. Loki emerged a moment later, eyebrows furrowed.

"Sorry, would I rather what?"

"Chinese or Italian?" she repeated, holding up the menu for him to see, "Food… I don't actually have a lot in the fridge, so I thought we could order in tonight and pick some stuff up for both of us tomorrow."

"Oh," he remarked, peering a little closer at the menus in her hand. "Why don't you pick the one that you like better? I wouldn't have a clue…"

"Chinese it is," Max said decidedly. She nodded, pleased with her decision, and then sauntered back to the living room. It was fairly obvious that she was going to be ordering everything, and as she dialed up the restaurant on her cell, she tried to pick as many easy, basic things as she could. If Loki wasn't much of a technology person, she had a feeling he wouldn't exactly be much of a foreign food person either.

She eventually settled on a couple of noodle dishes, some rice, chicken balls, and sweet and sour chicken. You couldn't go wrong with an array of things, and if he really didn't like anything… Well, he should have sorted his shit out and picked up some food before showing up here.

Once she finished on the phone, agreeing to a half hour delivery and an extra charge for paying with a debit card, Max wasn't really all that sure what to do with herself. In a way, she felt like she had to entertain him. This may have been his house now too, but that didn't take away from that fact that Loki was still a stranger. There she sat, on the couch, and she could hear him doing something in his room. It wasn't odd to have a roommate again, as she had only been without one for a couple of weeks, but she felt like she needed to do something to make her apartment seem like fun.

Instead, she turned on the TV and went back to reality shows. It didn't need to be her job to entertain someone, especially when they had arrived less than an hour ago. Everyone, herself included, ought to have some sort of space at the start of this kind of relationship.

True to their word, the little delivery man showed up within a half an hour, charged her an extra dollar to pay with her debit card, and she had piping hot foot to set out on the island in the kitchen. She called for Loki to join her for dinner, and he appeared moments later, nose high as he sniffed the air.

"You'll have to explain what all of this is."

Just as she suspected. With a bit of a grin, she went through each container, explaining what everything was, and how nothing was too spicy. He seemed slightly unimpressed with the array, and she shrugged.

"You won't know if you like it until you try it," she told him. "Haven't you guys ever done Chinese food before?"

"We were always a little more traditional with our food," he said slowly, picking up a chicken ball to examine, "and nothing was fried."

"Welcome to the United States of America," she laughed as she grabbed two plates and some forks. "Water?"

"Yes."

She grabbed two glasses and filled them from the tap. When she placed them back on the island, she saw Loki had already filled his plate to the brim with a little bit of everything, settling onto one of the barstools. His legs were long enough to keep his feet basically connected to the ground, whereas Max usually let her legs dangle over the side.

"So?" she asked as he chewed his first mouthful, "What do we think? Acceptable?"

He swallowed quickly, and then took a sip of water, "It's a little slimy."

"Yeah, you'll get used to it," she mused, happily scooping herself a giant helping of white rice.

Once he got into it, it was clear that he didn't really mind the food. They managed to make polite conversation throughout most of the meal, mainly about the college and its campus. Occasionally they would spice it up with a bit of chatter about the food, but otherwise all of the subjects were fairly neutral. Once again, she felt as though she needed to entertain him. The amount of food dwindled pretty quickly, mostly because Loki was eating like he hadn't had a meal in days, and eventually she realized they were going to run out of polite things to chat about. A thought occurred to her as she watched him scrape his plate with his fork.

"Question," she started. "Do you drink?"

"Drink what?"

"You know, alcohol?"

"I suppose I'm a social drinker," he told her, "and I do enjoy it at… parties."

"Oh, good," Max grinned, sliding off her barstool and grabbing two shot glasses from the ledge over the sink. "My old roommate and I did this the first night he moved in… He suggested it, actually, and it took all the awkward out of the air."

"The awkward?"

"Well, that sort of… friendly politeness that everyone has when you first meet each other," she explained, hopping up on the counter so that she could get at her bottle of vodka on the top shelf. "It's sort of a… get to know you game, but with alcohol. Once you've been drunk with someone for the first time, you're basically best friends."

"I don't quite think that's how friendship works," he mused, his eyes following her as she returned to her spot. She could tell he was less than impressed at the idea of a drinking game, but once again, he wouldn't know until he tried it, and by then, she hoped he'd be drunk enough to loosen up.

She wasn't a massive drinker or anything, but going through her undergraduate taught her what she was able to handle. People spent a long time drinking illegally when they first got to college, and drunken nights in residences were some of the best nights that she could remember. Now that they were all legal and had been for some time, drinking was more of a social thing; if she happened to get drunk while she was going it, then so be it. Unlike a few of her friends, she rarely picked a night to drink for the sake of getting wasted.

"Humour me," she told him as she set the bottle of alcohol down in front of him. "All right, so the game is called twenty-one questions. I have a hat… somewhere…"

She quickly popped open one of the nearby drawers and retrieved the hat, which was actually Josh's, but it still had the questions in it from the previous time they played.

"Now, what we do is we each pick a question out of the hat," she explained. "We both have to answer truthfully, and then we do a shot."

"What's the point of it?" he asked stiffly, leaning forward to glance into the hat.

"It's a game that gets us chatting, and we'll be more comfortable once we've got a bit of booze in us," she replied. "I mean, if you really don't want to do it, I understand. I just think it's a cool way for us to introduce ourselves and get out of the awkward."

He sighed, and then shrugged his shoulders, "I think I could use a drink after the days that I've had lately…"

"Awesome," she said brightly. "Okay, so, I'll go first, and we'll do a shot with every other question, otherwise we'll probably die."

She quickly reached into the hat when he didn't laugh at her exaggeration, and then pulled out the first balled up piece of paper.

"Right, where are you from?"

"We've done this one already…"

"I know, but it's just luck that we got it again," Max insisted as she filled both shot glasses. "Answer the question."

"England."

"Where in England?"

"Does that count as an extra question? Aren't there only twenty-one?"

Max rolled her eyes a little, "Fine. Well, I'm from Gainsborough, which is less than an hour east of here. Your turn."

He reached into the hat with his slim, long fingers, and then retrieved another piece of paper, "Do you have any siblings?"

"Yup," she nodded. "I've got an older brother… He's on a tour in Iraq at the moment. Should be back next year."

"Right."

"You have to answer too," she prodded, giving him a bit of a look.

"I don't have a brother or sister."

"See, there we go!" Max laughed. "Now, drink up!"

She picked up her shot glass and downed it in one go, sucking in her cheeks before coughing a little. Ugh, she always forgot how terrible vodka tasted on its own. Loki mimicked her action, and she laughed as she watched his face screw up.

"Here," she said quickly, her voice a little strained, "chase it with water, chase it with water!"

She shoved his glass back in his hand, and he finished the entire thing in one go.

"What the hell is that?" he demanded, glaring at the bottle before picking it up to examine it.

"I know it's a bit strong, but it'll get easier," Max insisted, shaking herself up a little as the alcohol started to seep through her. "I have a friend who says vodka tastes like water when you're drunk."

"I somehow very much doubt that."

"Moving on," she said quickly, grabbing the next question. "Favourite food?"

"Meat," he remarked. "You?"

"Bananas," Max replied. "Don't really know why."

"Your favourite food is a _fruit_?" he clarified, wrinkling his nose a little. "That seems like a waste."

"No judgements in twenty-one questions," she snapped playfully. "Go!"

He grabbed another paper, and then read, "Favourite colour?"

"Purple."

"_Really_?"

"What did I _just_ say?" she ground out, "No judgements! What about you? Magenta?"

"Green, actually."

"Shot!"

He groaned a little as she refilled their small glasses, and even she hesitated before downing the entire thing again. This time, she finished the remainder of her water, and then quickly carried on with the game.

"Are you a morning person?"

"What does that mean? Do I like the mornings?"

"Yeah."

"I suppose," he replied, face still wrinkled from his shot. He produced another question, "Who was your best childhood friend?"

"Probably my brother, actually," she said after a minute or two of thought. "We were two peas in a pod for most of my childhood. You?"

He was quiet as she refilled their glasses, and then dragged his toward him, "A man named Thor."

"Thor and Loki?" Max chuckled, watching as he took his drink. "Man, you guys got some gems for names over there…"

This shot actually hurt her a little, and she coughed it out, quickly starting to feel the alcohol. Her face started to relax, and she could bite down hard on the inside of her cheek without really noticing it.

"Okay," she droned, thoroughly enjoying herself. "When was your last relationship, and with who?"

He cocked his head to the side, "That's two questions."

"Don't question the questions," Max stated. "It's all-wise. Now answer."

"I don't think I've ever had an actual real relationship," he told her, "but I was… with a girl when I was younger for a little while."

"Name?"

"_That's_ another question. Answer."

"Fine," she sighed, squaring her shoulders off at him. "My last boyfriend was three years ago… His name was Jared, and we dated for a year."

"Fascinating stuff," he droned, retrieving another question. He squinted at it, and she started to wonder if the quick intake of alcohol might be affecting him too. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I want to be an artist," Max sighed wistfully, "but alas, I think I'll be in some office until I die."

"Depressing."

"Agreed. You?"

"I'd like to be a king," he told her without missing a beat.

"Lofty goal," she said, giving him a bit of a nod. "All the power to you."

He held up his glass to her, and they chinked them together before taking their next shot. She almost suggested they try drinking something else, but at the rate they were going, mixing didn't seem like an especially good idea.

"Righto," she giggled, grabbing a thicker ball of paper from the hat. "If you were o-on a desert island, what three things would you bring?"

"There's a good question," he mused, readjusting himself on his seat. "Let me have a think for a moment."

"How do you _have_ a think?"

"Shhh," he murmured, holding a finger to his lips. "One question at a time."

Yup, she wasn't the only one feeling the booze.

"All right," he said finally. "I would bring something to start a fire, something to hunt with, and something to sleep on."

"Tha's a very vague answer," she told him, frowning at him. "Boo."

"No judgements, remember?"

"Whatever," Max laughed. "Okay, so I'd bring… some fireworks, a soccer ball, and a bag of candy."

"You'd be dead within the night."

"Yeah, but it'd be a good time," she insisted, picturing it in her slowly clouding brain.

The questions and the shots that followed were something of a blur. Josh had been much chattier the last time they played, which meant the game lasted all night. Unfortunately, Loki seemed keen on moving through it at lightning speed, but with all the shots that followed, they both ended up in pretty bad shape really early on in the night. With only a few pieces of paper left, they were two shots away from finishing the round, and nearly her entire bottle of vodka.

"If you w-woke up as the opposite sex," Max laughed, sprawled out on the island, completely hammered at this point on shots of vodka, "what would be the first thing you'd do?"

"I don't even… understand that question," Loki told her, his speech slurred, eyelids blinking at alternate times.

"If you woke up as a lady," Max clarified. "What would you do?"

His eyes slowly drifted down to her chest, and he nodded, "Breasts."

Max snorted loudly, rolling her body awkwardly so that she was sitting up again – it was a miracle she hadn't fallen off the stool yet – and then nodded, "Yeah, I'd probably jack off."

"What?" He laughed loudly, the loudest she had heard him laugh all night, which made her giggle.

"Kay," she said groggily. "No more. I can't… I can't get to twenty-one."

"Tha's fine, _Max_," he droned. "Speaking of unfortunate names…"

"You know wha we should do," she mumbled, pushing herself off the stool and carefully supporting her body against the island. "We should… We should take the trash outside so we don't get mice."

He groaned, which she ignored, and she then started pushing all the containers into a bag. Even while wasted, her fear of a house infested with rodents was enough to make her clean.

"C'mon," she moaned, grabbing his wrist and basically falling over, which managed to get him out of his seat, "I'll show you where we throw stuff away outside."

"I don't want to."

"Loki," she whined, liking the way his name sounded when she whined it out. "S'not far!"

Somehow, she managed to get him outside the front door. Neither had shoes on, and she drunkenly cautioned him against the odd bits of sharp rocks they might encounter on the way to the bin. The massive garbage bin was around at the back of the building, and they eventually made it out there, chuckling and stumbling, her clutching his wrist for support despite the fact he was probably less stable than she was.

"Kay," she said when they came to a stop in front of the massive bin. There was a set of double doors that one had to open, and then there was a small chute for garbage, which emptied into the bigger bin. She dragged open one of the doors, which was heavy and metal and smelly, and then shrieked as a pair of raccoons hissed angrily at her. Angry and possibly rabies-infected, the larger of the two crouched defensively over their stolen meal, beady little eyes fixed on her.

"What? What?" Loki demanded, nudging her aside, and then stumbling back when the raccoon hissed again, "What the hell are those?"

"Raccoons!" Max shrieked, "Run!"

And with that, in as classy a manner as possible, Max chucked her bag of garbage at them, slammed the door, unsure of how they got in there in the first place, and raced back to her apartment with Loki in tow.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Raccoons are scary. Don't judge. **

**I have never played twenty-one questions, nor do I think I would do it drunk. I'm personally not a huge drinker, only for special occasions like parties and nights out with the roommates every so often, but it's still fun to write someone who gets plastered. We can expect more of that, since they're at college… I figured Loki would get pretty trashed too, considering he is no longer a God, and just a normal person like everyone else. His blinking his eyelids not at the same time is the one bit of drunk me I put in there.**

**I wanted to write something to show how they would get along straight away. I don't think he necessarily wants to be bffles, but I think at this point he would like someone who isn't a complete idiot who seems to want to get along with HIM over someone else, you know? I also think Max is a little naïve, and friendly enough to sort of just go with it… I bet that helps too. **

**Thank you all for the splendid reviews, and adds to favourite lists and whatnot. This story is going to be lots of fun awkwardness with a few serious moments here and there! Stick along for the ride!**


	5. Hangover Blues

When Loki felt himself coming to, he almost couldn't remember the bed he found himself in. The room was dark from a curtain that seemed to block out the light, but he could hear the pounding of rain against his window even without the extra sensitivities that he now lacked. He took a few deep breaths, eyes pressed shut tightly in response to the gut-wrenching pain in his stomach; what had she done to him?

Last night, after he had moved in the majority of his things, Max had brought up an idea for a way for the pair to get to know one another better. She insisted that there was too much "awkward" in the air, and by drinking and chatting, it would go away. He hadn't necessarily noticed any "awkward", as he was too preoccupied with staving off his mammoth hunger with the Chinese food she had ordered, and would have rather simply retired to his new bedroom to get some sleep for the night. However, she seemed so keen on the idea, and he did want to establish a good relationship with the person who was going to be his guide to surviving as a mere mortal. Loki also figured a good, stiff drink would be one way to keep his mind off of all his other worries. So, he could either turn her down and spend a few hours stewing in bed before falling asleep, or accept her offer and get a little tipsy while gaining a better understanding of the woman he was now living with.

Well, that one good drink he desired turned into nearly eight small drinks of the vilest liquid he had ever tasted. However, if Max could do it, Loki certainly wasn't going to object too sternly to it. He played the game according to her rules, and although the only worthwhile piece of information he learned was that she had an older brother in the military, he woke up remembering he had actually enjoyed himself. He hadn't been intoxicated in what seemed like a century, and there he was, tipsy after two shots, and almost completely gone after six. From there, he remembered staring at her breasts at one point, and then they were outside, shrieking and screaming at two furry fat beasts in the garbage disposal area. That was the last thing he recalled; somehow he had ended up back in his bed, though he was still wearing the same thing he had been from yesterday.

His body felt atrocious. Even though he had to have slept for more than seven hours, it felt as though he hadn't gotten more than two good hours of sleep. His head throbbed angrily whenever he moved, and his stomach was an absolute mess. His breathing seemed a little laboured as he sat up, eyes barely open as he surveyed his dark new box of a room. His small bed was in one corner, next to it a miniscule bookshelf. Across the way was his desk beneath the small window next to the closet, which already had a dresser inside it for all of his new human clothes. It didn't take much to navigate, and yet when he finally stood up, somehow he still stumbled into his bookcase.

As soon as he was up, he felt his stomach knot angrily, and he found himself swallowing down spit that seemed to be constantly refilling from his cheeks. Oh. He was going to be sick. He hadn't been physically sick since he was a boy, and now, after one night drinking with a human, Loki was going to spew everything in his gut onto the ground. With a hand over his mouth, Loki darted out of his bedroom and into the hall, and then made a sharp right toward their shared bathroom. Max's bedroom door was open, the bathroom door was shut, and he could hear water running, but he really didn't care; he could throw up all over the floor and be humiliated for the rest of the day, or he could throw up in the toilet and leave him and Max equally humiliated for the short duration of the incident.

So, he threw open the door, which mercifully remained unlocked, and collapsed in front of the toilet bowl, emptying almost everything in his body seconds later. He gripped the edge of the white bowl, eyes watering as he vomited, and he vaguely heard the water shut off from the shower-bathtub concoction beside him. He heard Max clear her throat from behind a dark blue shower curtain, and he shook his head, feeling absolutely horrible; at least she couldn't see the outcome of his upchuck.

"I'm sorry," he ground out weakly. "I just…"

He trailed off, feeling his stomach giving way again, and moments later he was back to puking into the toilet like some simpleton who couldn't hold his alcohol. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Max pop her head out from behind the shower curtain, a bit of a silly grin on her lips. He stared back at her over his shoulder when he finally stopped, eyebrows up, and she cocked her head to the side.

"So…" She laughed a little, "How are we feeling?"

"I think that's fairly apparent," he grumbled, reaching up and flushing the mess away before the smell induced another bout of sickness. "Why aren't you down here with me?"

"Well, I made sure I drank a lot of water before bed," she told him. "That usually keeps my stomach from dying in the morning… I take it you just passed out?"

He groaned a little, rubbing his eyes as the toilet refilled beneath him.

"Here, hand me the towel," Max ordered, pointing to the fluffy green thing sitting in the sink.

He stretched a little to reach it, and then tossed it back toward her. She caught it, showing a little bit of bare shoulder as she did, and then disappeared back behind the curtain. Loki sighed heavily; his head felt as though it was full of rocks that kept tumbling and jutting about in the tissues, and it was starting to become intolerable. He pulled the lid down and rested his head on the cool surface, shutting his eyes as he silently raged about the weaknesses of the human body. Even if he had drunk this much as a god, he was fairly sure he wouldn't have felt this terrible the following morning.

"Okay," Max sighed. His eyes flickered open and he spotted her climbing out of the shower, that fluffy green thing wrapped around her body, wet hair hanging over her shoulders. "Take something for your headache, and then have a shower. I'm going to go get us some breakfast hangover food."

"I don't know if I should trust you ever again," he half-whined, eyes still on her as she rummaged around on the cabinet next to the sink and produced a small rattling bottle. "Your game was a bit of a flop."

"Not true in the slightest," she mused as she opened it and shook out two white pills. "You just puked in front of me, and I'm feeding you Advil in a towel. I think the game did its job. Here…"

He gritted his teeth as he reached up to take the pills from her, barely even considering the fact that they may do more damage than good in his current situation. Max may have introduced him to a game that left him mostly immobile, but he was fairly sure that wasn't her intention. He may have been the type to constantly scheme as a means of getting the best of people, but Max seemed like a fairly genuine young woman with no clear motives. Yet.

Oh, fuck, what did he know – he had just emptied everything he ate the day before in the toilet. Loki hardly seemed to be in the state at the moment to make judgements about anyone.

Max filled a plastic cup with some water and placed it on the lid of the toilet next to his head, and then pointed at it, "Finish all of that before you stand up again."

He grunted in acknowledgement and then popped the two little pills in his mouth. Max had vanished from the bathroom, but he could vaguely hear her rustling around in her room down the hall. He cracked his neck noisily, and then proceeded to drink the entire glass in one go, only then realizing just how thirsty he was.

"So I noticed you didn't bring any shampoo or anything," Max commented when she reappeared back in the doorway of the bathroom. "Just use mine until we go get groceries."

"Thanks," he muttered, slowly easing himself into a seated position with his back against the tub. "I must say, you handle vomit remarkably well."

She shrugged, combing through her dark hair with her fingers, "I've been a student since I was eighteen… I've seen puke before."

"Well, so have I," Loki admitted, "but I certainly wouldn't be as gracious as you."

The woman grinned a little, and then stepped over his sprawled legs to go stand in front of the mirror, "Everybody gets one. Next time you come in while I'm in the shower, I'll make sure you suffer a little."

"I hadn't realized I wasn't suffering now," he grumbled, which earned him an amused look.

"Someone hasn't been hungover in a while, huh? It gets harder as we get older…"

Or become human. Loki rubbed his eyes again with the palms of his hand, revelling in the contact more than he should, and then let them drop into his lap, "You said you were fetching us breakfast?"

"Yup," Max replied. "I thought I'd get us some McDonald's… Greasy food is great when you feel like this."

He watched, fascinated, as she applied some sort of dark ink to her eyelashes. When she finished, they certainly made her eyes stand out more, and she turned back to him, an eyebrow raised.

"Is McDonald's okay?"

"What?" he asked, mostly because he hadn't really been listening, and then nodded quickly, "Oh, yes, yes that's fine. I'll have whatever you're having."

So far he had approved of her taste in food, even if the Chinese was a little strange, and he was sure he would enjoy whatever she brought back from her venture to this McDonald's place she spoke of.

"Cool. I'm driving, so I shouldn't be too long."

She stepped over him again, and this time his eyes lingered a little on her slim little bare legs. Why did she insist on wearing shorts that were so small? Was this fashion to young women? He couldn't imagine obese ones in the same thing… He blinked the image out of his head, and when he glanced down the hall, he spotted her figure retreating out the front door as she slipped on a pair of shoes. Moments later, he was completely alone in this new place that was supposed to be his, and he wasn't really sure what to do with himself.

Well, firstly, he needed to change out of these clothes. He quickly slipped out of the t-shirt and shorts and odd undergarments called 'boxers', and then stepped into the shower. The remnants of Max's shower water lingered, which was chilly on his feet. It took him a minute or so to figure out how to get it all working, and he endured a blast of frigid water that made him yelp before he managed to change the temperature. However, once he got everything to a perfect place, the shower was absolutely brilliant. The fruity bath soaps he could do without, but Loki made use of Max's shampoo to rinse his black hair with. It was getting a little long, and he hadn't seen any other man who looked his age with hair this long, so he opted to wear it up in a tie to detract attention from him whenever he was out.

Once he finished with the shower, he realized he did not have his own fluffy green thing to dry off with, and opted to use the slightly smaller towel hanging on the nearby hand rack. It wasn't great, but it got him dry enough to leave the tub, gather his clothes, and then dart back down the hallway into his room. He quickly dressed himself in another pair of shorts that were essentially the same as the ones he wore yesterday, but dark brown instead, and then threw on a clean t-shirt. Loki let his hair dry on its own, and decided to take advantage of his time alone in the apartment to do a little exploring.

Naturally, he started where his curiosity was the greatest – Max's room. The set-up was quite similar to his, but it was clear that the place was lived in. One wall was painted white while the other three were purple, though she had clearly gone and made some sort of circular purple design on the white space in an attempt to be artistic. She did say she wanted to be an artist, right? He riffled through the things on her desk, pushing the buttons on the device that he knew was called a laptop and flinching when the screen went from black to coloured. He stepped back, not wanting to leave any evidence behind of his snooping. There was a laundry bin next to her closet, with a bra sticking out and some socks on the floor. Her bookshelf brimmed with novels, and as he trailed his fingers along the spines, he realized this would have been a much quicker way to get to know his new roommate.

She was clearly artistic, though a little messy based on the state of her desk. From the undergarments that weren't tucked away from view, he assumed she was fairly modest. There were a few pictures taped up over her bed of what appeared to be family and friends, and he noticed a few recurring characters amongst them. All in all, she seemed incredibly average, even for a self-professed artist. He hadn't the slightest idea what Museums Studies consisted of, but he had a sinking suspicion it was quite dull.

Well, at least he hadn't picked someone who might actually threaten his existence on this planet. There were enough people on Earth and off it who would like to see his throat slit, and he had landed on a fairly safe choice for cohabitation.

When he finished off in Max's room, quite sure there would be no hidden surprises in there, he drifted toward the meat of the apartment: the living-cooking area. He had almost little to no knowledge of how the appliances functioned, mostly because he had never really cooked for himself before. So, he took some time investigating things. There was a cold box that housed all the produce with an even colder box on top for what appeared to be frozen meats. There wasn't much in this ice box, but he assumed they would fill it when they went for 'groceries' sometime in the near future. There was another large box-like contraption with four circles on top, all of which heated when he turned a knob. These seemed to be the two large appliances that every home might have, and then there were smaller ones like the self-proclaimed Microwave and a kettle. Much like her room, it seemed fairly basic out here.

As he rummaged through the cabinets, getting to know where he might find a glass or a plate should he need it, he heard a key being shoved into the lock at the front door, and moments later a wet Max stumbled in.

"Fucking weather," she hissed, cradling several large bags to her chest. It was, apparently, still raining. After kicking off her shoes, she waddled toward the little island in the center of the kitchen and placed the bags down, shooting him a grin before dashing off to her room.

It certainly didn't look appealing, food from a bag, but the smell instantly drew Loki toward them, and he found himself reaching in to unpack everything in her absence. He could get used to this; so far, Max had conjured up both meals for him, and it would have been great if this was the path their relationship continued along.

She returned moments later in a different shirt, and then shooed his hands away with hers, "Wait, wait, I bought us specific things…"

"Do explain," he told her, staring at all the little boxes with pictures of food on the top.

"I bought you two double cheeseburgers," Max explained as she pushed two of the large boxes toward him. "They come with fries too. You seem to have a bit of an appetite."

He gingerly popped open one of the boxes only to find a bun. Further investigation revealed some meat, lettuce, cheese, a tomato, and some sort of weird onion-pickle mix, but doubled. And there were two of them.

"It looks… disgusting," he told her honestly. Loki glanced up as she scooped a handful of fries into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before shrugging.

"Just eat it. You'll love it."

"Well-"

"Eat it!"

He scooped the contraption up and took a quick bite, noting that it was similar to a sandwich, but clearly at a lower quality of production. However, as soon as he started to chew, there was something about the combination of atrocities between two buns that tugged at his taste buds, and he took another hearty bite before he swallowed, thrilled with this discovery.

"See?" she laughed. "Best cure for a night of drinking…"

He said nothing, but continued scarfing the McDonald's sandwich down, nodding his head a few times. She might have been a little plain, but Loki was starting to suspect this girl was some sort of food genius.

"So," she said, poking a straw into her drink and taking a sip. "My plan for today is to sit on the couch and ride out the hangover with some good ol' Lord of the Rings. You interested?"

His eyebrows shot up, and he paused before he could try one of those golden fries, "What is Lord of the Rings?"

She laughed in disbelief, and when he said nothing, chewing thoughtfully on the fry instead, she shook her head, "Did you grow up under a rock? Have you seriously never seen or heard of Lord of the Rings?"

"You'll find I'm not very cultured," Loki forced, to which she laughed again.

"Well, I know what we're doing today," she insisted, gathering up her food and migrating toward the couch.

He followed, mostly because he had nothing else to do, and he certainly didn't feel like doing anything that involved a great deal of thinking. He managed to settle in quite comfortably to the corner of the couch, and he watched Max hurry about, turning things on and showing him some case with the title of the movie on it. He was mildly aware of film and had even seen a few through Eric Selvig's eyes; he had picked up _some_ things on his last venture to Earth, but clearly not the one Max was prattling on about.

"Oh!" she said suddenly as she flopped down on the other end of the couch, remotes and sandwiches in her lap, "I ran into Donna from the admissions office at McDonald's… I asked about your application, and she said you're fine; they just need to fill out some paperwork. Fast, huh? Good to know you're in…"

He twirled his finger in celebration as he chewed his most recent mouthful, which made her grin. So thrilled was he to know that this small college deemed him worthy of attendance. How wonderful and meaningful his human existence had become.

"All right," Max said after a few minutes of fiddling with the television to get to the main menu of the film. "Get ready for the most epic three hours of your life… They're extended, which means we'll be watching awesomeness until midnight."

"Hurrah," Loki sighed, more excited at the prospect of his second McDonald's burger than he was about 'watching awesomeness' for the rest of the day.

Maybe they could get these for dinner too…

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**So Loki was me today. TMI? Deal with it. I am going to Wendy's as I type. I can't freakin' wait. CAN'T WAIT. **

**I know this chapter was kind of short and a little pointless, but the opening scene was one I really wanted to do. Hope you enjoyed! Awkward and uncomfortable Loki actually makes me laugh so much. **

**Thanks for the lovely reviews! I'm getting to see and creep so many more fanfic writers and whatnot with all of you adding this story to alert lists, so it's super exciting. Love, love, love!**


	6. Princess Pea

Max had almost forgotten what it was like to live with an awesome roommate. She hadn't experienced it since her best friend, Patricia Games, moved out when they finished their undergraduate together nearly three years ago, and it had been an uphill slog the entire way. From the noisy bitches to the messy pigs, Max was starting to lose hope for the rest of humanity and their ability to interact with other human beings, and then Loki walked into her life.

Two weeks in and she had already decided he was probably the easiest person to live with thus far, Patricia aside. He was usually fairly quiet, cleaned his dishes within the day, and barely had enough stuff to fill his room, let alone the living room. Max preferred to shower in the morning, and Loki at night. They were equally terrible in the kitchen, and enjoyed sharing the cooking tragedies they concocted by making most of their dinners together.

During the day, Max either worked at the campus bookstore in preparation for the start of a new term in a week, or she kept herself busy on the computer, prepped for her own courses, or occasionally grabbed a bite to eat with the friends that were slowly trickling back into Masonville. As far as she knew, Loki kept himself busy during the days too; he had taken up jogging, which he could go for hours with it, and had read the majority of his textbooks for his science courses already. Once he learned how to work the television, he spent an hour in the morning watching the national news, and then an hour in the evening watching the local news with avid fascination. He also paid for them to get a subscription for the newspaper, and seemed almost obsessive about keeping up with global events. She sometimes asked why he wanted to study science if global issues were so interesting, but he never really had a direct answer.

Nights were usually the time that the two of them hung out together, and Max actually really enjoyed it. He was intelligent, witty, and perfectly happy to either engage in a conversation or sit in silence with a bowl of chips and watch television with her. She really liked their lazy evenings together. Sometimes they would walk to grab some take-out somewhere, and once this past week she had taken him to see a movie when a friend of hers was working, which meant they saw it for free. He was a surprising amount of fun, despite the fact there was always this slightly annoyed expression on his face whenever she forced him to do new things.

He really must have grown up in a box somewhere in England, because he seriously lacked knowledge of all things in the popular culture, even the basics, and was a completely technologically retarded when it came to some of the simplest thing; the microwave could prove especially vexing sometimes, which always made Max laugh from somewhere in the background when he swore at it.

Max also had a sinking suspicion that his family was absolutely loaded, because even though he wasn't really messy, he hadn't the slightest idea about how to do laundry, clean dishes properly, or scrub a toilet. It made her think that he had some sort of help growing up, probably some stuffy butler who never smiled, which meant he didn't have to do anything on his own until now. Don't get her wrong – her mom did a ton of housework for her and her brother while they were growing up, but they still had basic chores to do. Loki seemed to have missed out on that experience, and Max took a great deal of pleasure (secretly) in watching him learn how to recycle or push garbage bags into the compactor out back.

So far, life with Loki was actually much better than life without him. She hadn't been lonely or bored once since he moved in. They both seemed to know how to keep a polite distance when necessary, but otherwise it was always great to be able to harass him into walking down to grab a Subway sandwich at nine o'clock at night just because she was craving. It was pretty easy to tell when he was in a mood; he was less responsive, less witty, and less willing to banter if he was feeling like a grump, and Max learned very quickly that it was easier for everyone if she kept her distance until he stopped being a sourpuss. She wasn't really sure what specifically he had to be upset over, but she suspected there was more family drama than he had discussed with her before, and she wasn't going to push him into talking before he was ready.

"Can you take the chicken out of the fridge?"

She readjusted her legs, stretching them out across the couch as a rerun of Scrubs started.

It was Sunday afternoon, a week before their first day of the term, and Max had planned to have a lazy day in since she had worked all day yesterday and was scheduled to work all day Monday. Plus, the professor who she was TAing for wanted to meet with her and the other TAs sometime that week, and she needed to have some sort of game plan for interesting lesson topics to present; as a safety measure, all the teacher's assistants needed to have one lecture they were good with in case the professor was sick. So far, Max had two she liked for her first year art history class. However, she may have liked them, but she hadn't covered the material since she was a first year, which meant there was a lot to go over. So, Sunday was for relaxation, because the rest of the week was going to fly by in the blink of an eye.

"Do we want the little wings or the…" Max glanced over the couch when Loki paused for a moment, and spotted him examining a frozen package of chicken in front of the fridge. He frowned a little, "breasts?"

"Let's do the breasts," she suggested, watching as he tossed the other frozen package back in the freezer. "If we fuck up, it's less chicken ruined."

"Hmm, good point."

They had planned to do a chicken and vegetable dinner tonight, even though it was a little more adventurous than they were used to, and she needed it to thaw now. She heard him rustling around in the fridge, and as a commercial segment started, Max pushed herself over the armrest of the sofa, studying him for a moment.

"Are you going for a jog?"

That was almost a rhetorical question, as he was wearing the jogging shorts they bought last week and one of the new school t-shirts she picked him up, which meant all signs pointed to yes – yes, he was jogging during the hottest time of the day.

"I feel a little pent up this morning," he admitted as he ripped open the top of a yoghurt carton and shoving a small spoon in. "I might try that trail."

"Just watch out for… wild things," Max cautioned as she returned her gaze to the television, otherwise she might gawk at his toned legs for longer than acceptable. "My friend Greg said he and his buddies saw a bear in the woods once."

"Bear. Noted," he murmured, his mouth clearly full of the Berry Blast yoghurt he seemed almost obsessive about. "Are they bigger than those creatures we saw in the garbage that one time? Remember?"

"The drunk raccoon incident from two weeks ago?" Max laughed, rolling her eyes a little, "Yeah, bears are bigger than that. Just make a lot of noise and run up a hill."

"Sound advice, Max, sound advice."

"Well, I mean, just don't go too far into the woods and you'll be fine," she told him as she picked at the rubber buttons on her remote. "You know it's like a million degrees outside? Why do you want to leave the air conditioning?"

"Running is therapeutic," Loki told her, and she vaguely heard him lift the lid to the garbage and toss his yoghurt out. She then heard the water start to run, indicating him washing his spoon. "Haven't you heard of the health benefits-"

"Shhh, the show is back on," Max ordered, holding up a finger to him just visible over the edge of the couch as the commercials finally came to an end. He sighed noisily from somewhere in the kitchen.

Moments later, there was a knock at the front door, and she heard him saunter toward it, his bare feet only just audible over the sound of hilarity on the television. She wasn't really sure who would bother to come see either of them, though she had a feeling whoever it was, they were for her and not him; Loki knew a grand total of two people in this town, Max included. However, she couldn't drag herself off the couch today, and saw nothing wrong with letting Loki grab the door.

"Hello…"

"Hey…" The voice sounded familiar, and Max perked up suddenly, "Does… Max still live here?"

"Oh my god, Pat!"

What followed involved a lot of screaming, jumping, hugging and laughing, all of which Loki managed to avoid by ducking out of the way before Max tackled her best friend and former roommate, Patricia Games.

When they finished school, Pat had managed to secure an internship at a small museum in New York City, which meant she up and left their small town behind for bigger and better things. Her life should be a movie, because she's been working at the Met for a year now and _loving_ life, a life Max could only dream of having. They were usually in constant touch via texting, but this was a complete surprise, one Pat had hidden well from her.

Her best friend was a petite girl, seemingly smaller since she had moved to the city, with a mass of blonde curls and the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen. They were always a paradox when they were together: Pat light and bright with her smile, and Max dark and tanned with big brown eyes and frizzy, occasionally tamed, brown hair. They were average friends in high school, and better friends in college: best friends by the end of it. Life was weird and a little lonesome in Masonville without her, especially when they went long periods without seeing one another. This time around, she hadn't seen her since Christmas, and Max was absolutely over the moon to see Patricia's shining face on the other side of the door, even if the shine was from sweat.

"Get inside," she laughed, looping her arm around Pat's and hauling her stylish self into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind her. "You bitch! Why didn't you tell me you'd be in town?"

"It's not a surprise then, _whore_," Pat laughed, throwing her arms around her neck for another hug. She spotted Loki eyeing the situation apprehensively over Pat's shoulder, and she grinned, breaking the hug to make introductions.

"Pat," she started, gesturing to Loki, "this is my new roommate as of two weeks ago… Loki."

"Loki?" Pat repeated, quirking a blonde eyebrow as she looked him up and down, "Radical name."

"Loki, this is Patricia," Max continued. "We were the original roommates of this apartment before she made it big in New York."

"Pleasure to meet you, Patricia," Loki told her, extending his hand out for a shake. Patricia glanced down at it, and then curved her pink lips into a grin.

"We prefer to hug in the city," she explained, stepping forward to drag the much taller man down into a hug. Max stifled a laugh as Loki awkwardly patted her back, eyebrows furrowed, and then hastily darted to the side once she released him.

"Well, you ladies enjoy your reunion," he said dismissively, grabbing his shoes before hurrying out the door. "Don't want to jog too late."

"Bye," Patricia laughed, leaning to the side to watch him leave. As soon as the door shut, she turned back on her heel to face Max, eyes wide, and squealed, "Hot!"

"So hot," Max agreed. "I actually wear my bra around the house because he's _that_ hot."

"I don't know how you're going to live with him," her friend giggled. "Have you seen his arms?"

"I am aware that they are quite physically fit," she laughed. "It's the eyes and the accent for me. Did you hear him?"

"I'd do so many things to him," Pat told her as they naturally drifted toward the couch. "Like… horrible, awful, dirty things, and it would be… exquisite."

"Yeah," Max sighed wistfully, allowing herself a split second to allow the dirty thoughts she normally blocked out of her head a second to play out. She wasn't into the guy, per se, but he was attractive and they got along, so it was only natural to feel a bit of an attraction at this point.

"So, have you guys done anything yet?"

"Pat!" Max laughed, smacking her friend as they settled down on opposite ends of the couch, "No, that's weird… We live together!"

"Yeah, but it's not like 'relative roommates', it's like… sexy friend roommates living together," Patricia argued deviously, wiggling her eyebrows at Max, which prompted her to throw a pillow at the woman.

"Don't tempt me," Max told her firmly, a wide grin on her lips. "Enough about him… Tell me about you! Why are you down here all of a sudden? Are you back?"

"No, no, god no," Patricia laughed, shrugging off the idea with a shiver. "I'm coming back to talk to some undergrads about a future in Museum Studies…"

"Seriously?" Max snorted, "We actually have people interested in our program?"

"I know, right? Craziness," Pat chuckled. "I'll be here for two weeks, and then I'm back home and back to work."

"Look at you, jetsetter," Max chuckled, poking her legs with her foot. "You're just all over the place."

"That's kind of what I wanted to chat about in person," Pat started, a touch more seriousness to her tone. "There's this program at a museum in Oxford… England, and every year they take hundreds of applicants from Britain to do a summer internship."

"Great," Max nodded. "Are you looking to do summer work? Unpaid, I bet…"

"No, not for me," her friend insisted. "For _you_! They have a spot for foreigners, preferably English speaking ones, and apparently, no one ever applies for it."

"Oh."

"So, you want an in into the museum world?" she asked, "Do this internship. You get a great reference from it, and it'll look awesome on your resume."

"Yeah, that sounds like something I might consider," Max told her. "I mean, I don't know if I should forgo a summer of working just to work for some British internship-"

"Max," Patricia said firmly, leaning forward and taking hold of her feet. "If you ever want to get out of here, more than an hour away from where we grew up, you need to do stuff like this. You need to try."

"I _do_ try!"

"Not really," her friend argued. "I mean, you work a lot, you get good grades, but our field is competitive and small… You need something more than like… four years of experience at the bookstore and a TA position to make yourself stand out."

"Thanks, mom."

"I'm just trying to be helpful for my little grad student," Pat giggled, nudging her once again. "Think about it. I'll email you the links for the application."

"Cool."

"Okay, enough business," she laughed, shaking off the tension that always arose whenever they discussed Max's future with a bright smile. "Update me on _everything_, starting with what happened with Josh, and _have_ you seen Loki in the shower yet?"

She snorted loudly, and then proceeded to fill Patricia in on the events that had been going on in her life, the ones that were too long for text messages and emails. It was always so easy to fall back into their natural rhythm of filling the other one in on their lives. Obviously there was a little bit of sadness, because they couldn't necessarily understand some of the good stories that happened with other people, and they weren't quite as easy to piece together when Max hadn't hung out with any of Pat's friends, but they made it work.

Hours drifted by. Loki returned from his jog, sweaty and panting, and both women leaned over the couch as he drifted into the bathroom, stifling their giggles when Pat wiggled her eyebrows at his retreating form. He didn't join them out in the living room when he finished, but instead locked himself in his room until Pat finally remembered she was meeting a professor for dinner downtown that night.

"Look, let's get everyone together and do a pub night sometime this week," she suggested as she slipped into her shoes, tucking her effortless hair behind her ears. "I really want to see everybody."

"I'll see who managed to get back before September, and then I'll text you," Max agreed, grinning as she leaned against the doorframe. "Do you have a place to stay?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it," Pat insisted, giving her one last hug. "I'll be in touch."

Max waved her out, watching as she hopped into what was clearly a rental car and departed from the complex's parking lot. She smiled, remarkably pleased with the way the day had gone, and then shut herself back inside. She then went to check on the chicken, pleased that it was pretty much thawed, and began to rummage about in the fridge for some vegetables.

"That must have been a nice surprise."

Max flinched when Loki's voice suddenly appeared behind her, and her eyes narrowed a little, "Can you not creep around the house like that? It scares the shit out of me."

"Sorry," he chuckled, holding up his hands as a sign of surrender. "I'll stomp from now on."

"You better," she told him. "Okay, so, we've got a can of peas and some broccoli… Does that sound good with chicken?"

She set the can of vegetables down on the counter, and Loki picked it up to examine it. He shook his head, and then raised both eyebrows at her, "Are we really doing this again? Chicken was our worst dish."

"We didn't let it thaw last time," Max argued as she removed the pair of chicken breasts from their packaging. "This time… should be better."

Oh, she needed to preheat the oven. Fuck, she was awful at cooking. She quickly turned the knobs to the temperature she used to cook just about everything, and then decided she should probably delegate some of this out between them.

"Okay, how about I do chicken," she suggested, "and you can do the vegetables. Just follow the instructions on the can."

"Right."

"We are not going to mess this up," she told him. "Positive thoughts, Loki. This dinner is going to be awesome."

"Not really sure how awesome canned peas are, but all right," he muttered just loud enough for her to catch his sarcasm.

"Easy, Captain Sarcasm."

He shot her a grin as he continued to read the instructions on the side of the can, a grin that was definitely something that would make a girl like Pat do awful, horrible things to him. Damn it, Pat. Now she had gone and put all these thoughts in her head. Well, the thoughts were there initially, but she had managed to suppress them fairly well. She certainly didn't need to have a little crush on her roommate, but she knew that if she kept trying to ignore it, it would only get worse. So, she had to accept that she was physically attracted to Loki; after all, he was definitely crush-worthy… It was perfectly acceptable.

"So, how was your run?"

"Good," he replied as he started searching through the cabinets for a pot. She wasn't going to help him find it, and instead hopped up the counter and crossed her legs as he searched for one beneath her in the proper place. He popped up a moment or so later so that they were roughly at the same eye level, pot in hand, and then smirked a little her when she felt her cheeks twinge a dull flush.

"What happened to your face?" she asked, both diverting the attention from her stupid blushing because of stupid Pat and her stupid compliments about Loki's stupidly hot body _and_ acknowledging that there was a bit of a scratch above his eyebrow.

"Oh, that," he said quickly, going to the sink and filling the pot with water. "I fought a bear, actually. You should have seen him… absolutely massacred."

"You ran into a tree, didn't you?"

"Branch hit me in the face," he sighed, rolling his eyes a little when he turned back to face her. "I don't like running in the woods."

"Poor baby," she cooed, hopping off the counter when the stove timer dinged to announce that it was heated fully. She then slathered the raw chicken in some sauce, stuck it on a pan, and then slid it in the oven. Meanwhile, she heard Loki fiddling with the can opener, and she left him to his own devices as she washed her hands and turned on the radio. "How's the can opener working for you?"

"I've almost got it," he grumbled, snapping it into place finally and turning it, grinning at his small accomplishment.

"All right, so the chicken will probably take forty minutes," Max estimated, glancing at the clock. "Want to do an episode of something while we wait?"

"Yes, I suppose that would be fine," he replied as he plopped all his vegetables in the water. "These won't take as long as the chicken."

"No, probably not," she agreed as she drifted over toward the television.

She then flopped down on the couch, powered up the TV, and waited for him to join her. He did, and as usual he took the spot at the other end of the couch, long legs stretched out on the old coffee table in front of them. Also as usual, he had no opinion on what they watched, no favourite shows or anything, so she stopped flicking through channels when they landed on some crime scene investigation show, something he always seemed to enjoy. He liked to try to figure out the murderer well before they announced their first suspect, which was always entertaining to hear his theories.

However, tonight she couldn't focus on his theories because she constantly found her thoughts drifting to other places on him. It wasn't really anything specific, but she couldn't help glancing over at him every so often and thinking about him as more of a sexual being, rather than her normal roommate.

Damn it, Pat.

"Is everything all right, Max?"

"What?"

Mortification. He caught her looking at him. Ugh.

"You keep looking at me, and it's not even the commercial break yet," he said, eyes still on the TV as he spoke. He must have had wicked peripherals.

"Oh, yeah, I just… keep thinking about that branch hitting you in the face," she lied. "Are you sure it's okay? It looks kind of… bleedy."

_Ugh_. Double ugh.

"Bleedy?" he repeated, finally turning to face her with a frown on his lips. "Are you sure? Take a look for me, will you? The light is better here than in the lavatory."

"Uhm…" she trailed off nervously, and then leaned a little closer to examine the fairly small, thin cut just above his eyebrow. "You know what? I'm not sure what I was seeing before… It looks fine."

She licked her lips and nodded, as though deciding for herself that everything was acceptable, and then quickly settled back into the couch. Just for safe measure, she pulled a pillow in front of her and wrapped her arms around it.

Stop it, Max. You live with him. Every single day will be this, and it'll get awkward for everyone if you pull shit like that again.

She glared up at her forehead, wishing her brain would stop sending conflicting messages and just be normal. Play it cool, brain.

"I think it was the fellow who came by to watch the police take the body out," she heard him hypothesize. "I mean, why would you bother unless you'd like to see your handiwork?"

"Uh huh."

Turns out it wasn't Loki's first guess, as usual, and once Max got a little more into the show, she stopped caring about the attraction in her brain to her roommate. Whatever. It happens, and she wasn't going to let it ruin what seemed to be a fast-budding friendship.

"Does something smell like its burning to you?"

Max, too engrossed in the final interrogation scene, suddenly realized that she had left the chicken on one side for over forty minutes, and propelled herself off the couch and raced to the stove. Loki followed closely behind, and they both coughed when she opened the oven, smoke billowing out.

"Fuck," she hissed, snatching a pair of towels and pulling the pan out. As she suspected, the bottom half was burnt to a crisp, whereas the opposite side was a nice golden brown. "Well, that's done."

"My vegetables seem to be fine," Loki noted smugly as he poked at the floating broccoli with a spoon. Max frowned, and then snorted noisily.

"You forgot to turn the burner on," she groaned, reaching in the cold pot and finding a piece of equally cool broccoli. "Nothing cooked!"

He brought his hands up just as she threw the piece at him, and he seemed genuinely surprised, "Did you just… throw a vegetable at me?"

"Learn to turn on the burner!"

"Learn to not… burn the chicken," he snapped back, snatching a floating pea and flicking it at her. Her eyes widened, and she plucked the spoon from his hand, scooped up a few peas, and then poised it in the attack position. Loki backed away, looking down at the spoon, and then grinned at her, "Don't start a war you cannot possibly win, Max."

"Come at me," she challenged, flicking the spoonful of peas at him. She then shrieked when he lunged for her, and she tore off around the other side of the island, eyes widening when she saw he had the entire pot in his hand. "Oh, _so_ not fair!"

"I did warn you, didn't I?"

She pursed her lips for a moment, and then darted down the hall, racing for the bathroom as his footsteps thundered after her. She couldn't help but laugh as she managed to lock herself in the bathroom, pleased that she saved herself from the barrage of peas and broccoli. There was a soft tap on the door, and she heard Loki whine her name.

"I've put the pot down," he told her. "Let's just decide you've won a small battle, and postpone the war until after we eat?"

"Fuck you, you haven't put the pot down," she barked playfully, her hand on the knob. "Proof or you're full of it."

"How can I give you proof?" he laughed. "You can't even see me!"

"Guess I'm just going to live in the bathroom then," Max told him.

Silence was his response, and she pressed her ear to the door, only to frown when she heard nothing. Now, she wasn't a moron; she grew up with a brother, so she knew all the tricks. However, she was more or less interested with where this might go, and finally decided to unlock the door just so she could get a peak outside.

However, he took her moment of stupid weakness, and Max screamed when he charged in through the door, pot in hand, vegetable water slopping everywhere. She tried to duck underneath him and slip away, but he managed to catch her around the waist, and somehow they ended up falling back into the bathtub. Luckily, no one managed to rip down the shower curtain, but Max ended up covered in peas, broccoli, and fairly smelly vegetable water. Loki tumbled to the side: both of them ended up in the tub, legs propped up on the rim, both wet from the pot and remnants of Loki's shower earlier.

"I hate you," she laughed as she picked peas out from her chest area. "You've ruined everything."

"Can we just go out to eat?" he asked as he plucked a pea from her hair. "This really doesn't seem to be worth the trouble."

"Fine," Max groaned as she continued to brush vegetables off her body. "Just let me clean up and we can go."

She looked over at him and he grinned again, that same damn grin that made her blush, and she punched him on the arm as hard as she could, "Get out!"

"All right, all right, I'm going," he chuckled, hoisting himself up and out of the tub. "Don't take too long, Princess Pea. I'm hungry."

"Oh, a pop culture reference," she droned, kicking at his legs as he walked by, "I'm _so_ surprised."

She was, actually. Good job, Loki. Good show.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**They won't always be in the bathroom, I swear. **

**There were a few things I wanted to do in this chapter. First, I wanted to introduce Patricia. Her part is small now, but she will return near the end of this chapter, and be integral in setting up the sequel. Second, I wanted to show a little more of Max, because I feel like I've focused on Loki a little too much. Third, I wanted to show chemistry between them by doing goofy, flirty things without it being too overt. **

**Vegetable fights aren't overt, shut up. K, it kind of so was. Yeay for middle school flirting – "LOL I HIT YOU BECAUSE I LIKE YOU!"**

**Also. I know it's Princess Peach, not Princess Pea - let's just give it to him, okay? He's trying.  
**

**As always, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I love hearing feedback, and I'm always so thrilled to hear what everyone thought! This story has been my fastest growing one, and the one with the most muse in… probably forever. Savour it! Here's to hoping I get the majority done before school starts again in the fall!**

**Speaking of school – oh haaay, Loki. Get ready for undergraduate first year first days! NOTHING HAPPENS. Stay tuned!**


	7. Syllabus Sea

"Wake up! You're going to miss your first class!"

Loki jolted awake as a pillow slammed into his face, and he nearly launched himself at his attacker out of habit. However, on some sort of a subconscious level, he knew it was Max rousing him from a peaceful slumber, and that meant he couldn't throttle her just yet. Had it been anyone else, any other person on this planet, he may have choked them within an inch of their life, but it was Max. So, instead of retaliating, he groaned noisily and rolled over, shielding his face weakly from her barrage of pillow-smacks.

"Max," he growled, eyes pressed shut firmly as he curled into himself, "stop hitting me!"

"No," she snapped, giving him one last hit for good measure. "You promised you wouldn't skip your classes!"

He groaned again, and then rolled over, glaring at her as she towered over him, "We've been through this."

"You shouldn't just care about one class because it's taught by one guy-"

"That _guy_ is the reason I'm here," Loki argued, despite the fact he had no need to explain himself to her. "I don't need to care about the rest of them."

"This isn't the way to start your undergrad," Max insisted, throwing his pillow back down on the bed and planting her hands on her hips. "If you do poorly in all your other classes, they'll kick you out for failing. So… Up. You have class in forty minutes."

He _knew_ he'd regret agreeing to post his schedule up on the ice box next to Max's. It had been her idea that they both post them so that they would know where the other was if they needed to get in touch with them for some reason or another. Loki certainly didn't care, but Max seemed to think it would be beneficial somehow, so he did it.

After three weeks of living with this girl, he came to decide that she was an acceptable human being. There were so few of them, and she was incredibly tolerable, perhaps the most tolerable of all the humans he had been forced to interact with over his various trips to this planet. She had an incredibly strange sense of humour, almost no ability to create anything in the kitchen, and could actually hold an intelligent conversation when he prodded her enough. In the grand scheme of things, she had no real purpose. Unlike Edgar Ludwick, she would have no input or function toward getting him back out into space, but he enjoyed her company all the same. She was extraordinarily patient with his failing as a mortal, and hardly seemed irritated or put off that he knew almost nothing about popular culture trends or modern technology.

If Loki had been in her situation, he probably would have had an exceptional amount of fun at her expense before dispensing with her. He had no tolerance for idiocy, and yet here he was: a buffoon when it came to some of the simplest tasks, and Max had no qualms with it. Sometimes she poked a little fun here and there, but otherwise she seemed determined to get him caught up on everything he might have missed while living under a rock somewhere in England.

His backstory had been adequate enough thus far, but he was sure people may start to poke holes in it if he told too many about it. So, his plans were to keep to himself while he was at the college for his courses, gain the trust of Ludwick, and then use that trust to get him in contact with someone from Earth's space program. Why a genuine scientist with connections to such a prestigious program would choose to teach in this pittance of a town was beyond his comprehension, but he wasn't about to question the gift that was placed before him.

However, because Ludwick was the only person he truly cared about impressing, Loki had already planned to not attend any of the other classes on the schedule some guidance counsellor dreamed up for him based on his requests. Today would have consisted of an American History course, followed by Ludwick's introduction to biology an hour later, and lastly some art history class that he had been slotted into because most of the other ones were full. That was just for today, mind you; he still had an arithmetic lesson of some sort, and a media and technology course the following day, neither of which he had any intention of going to. However, when he accidentally let it slip that he wasn't planning on attending the majority of his lessons, Max nearly threw a fit.

She was so keen on his success in college, perhaps because she was under the impression that he had nothing else in his world to live for. It was a little frustrating, but he almost found it endearing the way she fretted over this and that, all of it pointless in the grand scheme of the universe, of which Loki ought to be a substantial part of. He was angry with a lot of things in his world, but Max could hardly be one of them; she had been accepting of him almost instantly without having to make much of an effort, and she had immediately tried to make him feel as comfortable as possible. However, it was extremely trying sometimes to have the same amount of patience he felt from her when he was in a mood, and they happened fairly frequently.

The rage he felt at the loss of his powers and the fallacies of this mortal form was incredible, and it usually lurked near the surface, ready to strike. Max was quite lucky he had such a good grasp on it, otherwise her morning wake-up routine that Monday might have cost her a few limbs. He closed his eyes once more when she ripped the sheets off him; she had certainly become quite familiar with him at a remarkable rate, this girl.

"Max," he growled again. "There is absolutely no point-"

"Look, you need to pick up your syllabus for the class, and at least show your face once," she demanded, poking him hard enough in the chest to make him wince. "Just go and you might like it. Like Chinese food-"

"All right, all right," Loki moaned, his eyes snapping open to narrow at her. "I'm getting up."

"Good," she said triumphantly, grinning at him as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly sat up. "I have class too… So I'm off, and then if you want to find me before your bio class, I usually eat lunch in the student centre."

"Right."

"And you had better actually _go_ once I leave," she warned him sternly, poking him once more for good measure. "If you don't, I _will_ be forced to cut you."

He snorted noisily, and then smacked her hand away before she could poke him again, "All right, warning received loud and clear. I'll find you for lunch."

"Cool," she said, clearly pleased with her accomplishment. "Don't get lost, have fun, bring money because they don't accept credit cards."

"_All right_," he ground out, shooting her a pointed look as she sauntered out of his room. "Just go already!"

"And wear a smile," she trilled, poking her head back in the door. "It's the first day of school!"

He grabbed his pillow and hurled it at the door, but she had already ducked out of the way, laughter echoing in the small hallway. Giddy little twit. She had been like this last night too, extremely excited to start her classes, and it almost drove him to go for a midnight jog to avoid the craziness. Loki had attended a schooling of sorts while growing up, and he enjoyed it for what it was; Thor hated it. However, now that he was a grown man, he had no desire to sit in a classroom and listen to some imbecile talk about nonsense he didn't care about.

You know what else he didn't care about? Orientation Week activities. Max seemed set on getting him to attend at least one function over the course of the next week as a way to 'bond' with his classmates, but Loki would have rather stabbed a fork in his eye. He had no desire to see a musical group perform, nor did he want to attend a dance, or a lecture about safe sexual practices. No, no, and definitely not.

Max could prattle on about getting the college experience as much as she wanted, and Loki would pretend to listen, nod occasionally, but he wasn't here to make friends or enjoy the "experience". He was here to worm his way off this planet by any means necessary; there was a much higher chance of him acquiring new powers out in the universe where real magic actually existed, and this planet made him weary to experience it as a mortal.

One step at a time. He had to remind himself of that fact daily. Every time he woke up still an ordinary, boring human with a weak body and a slightly clouded mind, he had to force himself to remember that this would not be a process that happened overnight. If anything, he could be out here as long as a month, perhaps two, before he persuaded Ludwick to get him anywhere of importance. Slow and steady, Loki; play the game.

So, with that mentality in mind, Loki dragged himself out of bed to have a quick shower, merely a rinse, and then quickly dressed. He had noticed a pattern between the young men of the area whenever he and Max drifted outside for some reason or another, and he went with a more subdued version of it in order to blend. His outfit generally consisted of a pair of shortened pants to the knee and a t-shirt that hung loose around his frame. He had lost a great deal of muscle mass since arriving, and he assumed that was sapped out of him when Odin depleted his strength, which was why he was so keen on exercising. He wasn't about to let this worthless human body let him down physically.

Once he was dressed and had a bag packed with the notebook Max lent him, he grabbed a yoghurt cup to eat on the way and quickly slipped out the door. He pushed his feet into his shoes, which were finally starting to fit snugly, and then locked the door behind him. The sun was obnoxiously bright as he strolled down the street, careful to remain on the sidewalk at Max's insistence. After having walked this town at least twice on his own and a few times with his new roommate, Loki found it fairly easy to navigate his way toward the college campus. However, once he was there, the place was swarming with teenagers and young adults, and it seemed everyone was trying to get in every direction, some as equally lost as he was, others on a mission with headphones stuck firmly in their ears.

The one thing he hadn't lost during his fall from Asgard was his memory. He had all of his class locations and times memorized, even though he only cared for one. Unfortunately, he did not have the campus memorized. It may not have been large, but there were quite a number of different buildings scattered everywhere in no particular order, and Loki spent a good fifteen minutes scrambling around trying to find Hilson Hall for his American History lecture. When he finally found the small building, he ducked inside, following a group of girls who were clearly looking for the same room based on the sheer volume of their ponderings about its location.

He managed to spot the doors to the lecture hall before they did, and Loki darted in just as the class commenced. When he found a spot to sit at a desk near the back, Loki found himself glaring at the supposed professor as she wrote her name on a blackboard at the front. Her voice was too quiet to carry to the back of the room, and she saw fit to have students pass out sheets of paper that consisted of the term's syllabus. Loki read it over, but only because he had no desire to listen to the woman talk about class policies and absence notices. There was a topic that they would address each week, and discussion group sessions on Fridays. There were two major essays to be written, and three exams.

This was ridiculous. He spent the better part of the hour being irritated with everything. Why did he bother with this charade? Loki had absolutely no interest in American History, nor did he enjoy listening to people clack away around him on their laptops and cell phones. When the hour was finally up, he had no idea if he could actually fake his way through this if every single class was going to be like this. He may have to accelerate his plans with Ludwick in order to escape this farce sooner rather than later. The one thing he did notice was that most of the other students seemed equally unimpressed with both the professor and the course layout.

"Two essays _and_ three exams," one girl moaned as they all filed out of the room. "What does she think, that I only take her class? I may drop this bullshit and pick up a psych course…"

"No, please don't leave me! I can't listen to her three times a week without you!"

Hmm. It only made him feel marginally better that there were others who also disliked what they just experienced, and he began to wonder if there were many other students out there taking courses they had no interest in. Max had whined to him about being forced into an introductory chemistry class in her first year; apparently, it was all about paying one's dues before they could actually do what they wanted with their schooling. How absurd.

Once he was outside Hilson Hall, he squared his shoulders and took a moment to gather the layout of the land before him. There were a lot of trees, flower beds brimming with the remainder of the summer's crop, and students everywhere, filing in and out of brick brown buildings. Most had headphones in their ears, while others walked in herds, giggling and chatting noisily as though they owned the very space they tread upon. This was a dynamic that he had no ever experienced before on previous trips to Earth. For the most part, he dealt with older intellectuals, military strategists, and, well, vigilantes who could match his godly abilities with mutations of their own. Everyone here was so remarkably ordinary, and like Max, would surely have no impact on the world as a whole at any point in their lifetime.

Loki felt very small standing among them.

Sighing irritably, he readjusted the straps of his bag and then carried on into the mass of people, wrinkling his nose or glaring whenever someone cut him off or knocked into him. Honestly, there couldn't be more than two thousand people total in this town – how on Earth was this campus so full of idiots?

He had an hour to kill before Ludwick's class, and although he would have preferred to simply walk to the classroom and wait, his stomach seemed to have other ideas in mind. His vigorous appetite had yet to cease, despite the fact he and Max could barely make an adequate meal between them, and he found himself gorging on slightly unhealthier options that the fast-food places had to offer in town. So, rather than lurking around the Biology and Natural Sciences Building for any longer than necessary, Loki attempted to navigate his way through the masses to find the Student Centre, and within in it Max.

Shockingly, the Student Centre was much easier to find than Hilson Hall, as it was the largest building on campus, and many seemed to flock toward it around the lunch hour. He simply needed to follow the group, and eventually he was pushing through the glass doors and into the cool building. It was dome-shaped with a glass roof, and the centre of it was lined with circular tables and chairs. Around those were an excessive amount of fast-food joints, all of which had lines. As Loki wandered in, ignoring the person he walked into as he studied the design of the building, he noticed that there were staircases at arbitrary points leading up to a second floor. Once he had assessed the place, he decided this was probably the nicest building in the entire town.

Max wasn't all that difficult to find. Seeing as she was the only person in this town that he really knew well, her face was easy to spot in the crowd. She was wearing her usual grey college sweatshirt, which was another indicator of her presence, and Loki kept his eye on her as he maneuvered through the tables and groups of people. It was incredibly loud in this building, something that he both reveled in and found extreme distaste for. His life had become such a balancing act.

"Hey!" she greeted, her voice easy to detect over the other conversations, "Sit!"

She moved her bag off the chair next to her, and then shot a quick smile to the man seated on the other side of the table. Loki took quite stock of the fellow: tall, lanky, thin, hair that really ought to be cut or tied back, wide-brimmed glasses on a thin nose.

"How was your first class?" she asked, her enthusiasm grating. "Was it worth getting up for?"

He shot her a glare, and her smile faltered a little, "That bad, huh?"

"Atrocious," he growled as he took half of the sandwich off her plate and took a bite. She almost protested, but he shot her another look the indicated he was in no mood for their usual banter, and she quickly fell silent.

"Well, you've got biology next," Max said finally, "so I bet that will cheer you up. By the way, this is my friend, Ben. He's a TA with me."

Loki forced a smile at the man, though he continued to chew, in no real mood for pleasantries.

"Ben, this is my new roommate," she continued, rolling her eyes a little. "Loki's from England. He's not normally a douche, I promise."

He wasn't sure what she had just called him, but he knew it wasn't flattering. He took another bite of her sandwich ominously.

"Loki?" Ben repeated, nodding his head a few times, "That's an interesting name."

"So I've been told," Loki managed finally.

"Your parents wouldn't happen to be mythology experts, would they?" the man continued, seemingly unperturbed by Loki's annoyance.

"Why?" Max inquired before Loki could respond.

"Well, Loki is the Norse God of Mischief," Ben informed her. "Statistically, it isn't as common a name as Odin, but more common than Thor, though the female Norse goddesses seem to be the most common out of all of them. Freya is an incredibly popular name in many European countries."

Loki blinked at the man, his insides twisting; had this fellow figured out his identity so quickly? Was he secretly a member of that blasted SHIELD corporation?

"Ben's a theology grad student," Max said quickly, her comment bringing Loki out of his temporary paranoia. "He's also got a computer for a brain, so he's got lots of fun facts up there."

He stared at the man, wondering for a moment if Max was serious, and then cleared his throat, "My parents did have an interest in the Norse gods, yes."

Ben nodded again, and Loki noticed his lunch tray was incredibly organized; all of his vegetables were lined up in a neat, orderly row, his drink and dip parallel to one another on either side of the tray, and his sandwich remained untouched in the centre.

"It's actually a really exciting time for Norse mythology enthusiasts," Ben carried on, unnecessarily adjusting a carrot. "I mean, with what happened in New York City this year with those Avengers and the _actual_ Thor being sited-"

"You think the God of Thunder is real?" Loki inquired sternly, his eyes locked with Ben's to the point where the fellow actually blushed a little.

"W-Well," the man stammered, "I know people have said he had similar powers to the actual myth-"

"Ridiculous," Loki remarked, trying to appear bored. "As if the gods were real."

He couldn't stand the thought of someone idolizing Thor right in the front of him, and it was certainly easier to make the man squirm than it was to listen to him prattle on. Besides, he did not need anyone arousing Max's interest in what happened with the Avengers. He was sure it was online somewhere, but she seemed to have little interest with what happened nationally if it did not directly affect her, and he preferred to keep it that way.

"I'm going to Ludwick's class," Loki said after a moment or so of tense silence. Max nodded and attempted to take her sandwich half back, but Loki managed to take a big enough bite to claim it for himself.

"You're an ass."

He shot her a smile, cheeks puffed with bread and whatever else was nestled in there, and then turned to depart. Hopefully his skepticism had firmly put all thoughts of Thor out of Ben's mind, though that became a distant concern as he marched through the Student Centre. Once outside, he had to reorient himself in order to find the location of his biology class, but he finally found a helpful map of the entire campus positioned on a large board near the domed building. He scanned it and quickly found the location he needed, and was pleased to see that it was only two buildings away from the Student Centre. So, backpack wrapped around his shoulders, Loki set off with a determination to win over this Edgar Ludwick, space researcher, within this first lesson.

He was a little early for the lecture this time around, which meant he chose a seat right up at the front. The desks were built for two people, but as more students filed in, Loki placed his bag on the other chair in an effort to dissuade anyone from sitting next to him. The plan worked, and when it seemed like everyone who was going to arrive had done so, he had the entire desk to himself. Excellent. Now, he planned to look fully engaged, ask insightful questions, and laugh at whatever horrendous joke this reclusive scientist had to offer. He had lived through Erik Selvig for long enough; he knew how to handle these sorts of people.

The door to the classroom opened once more, and the students around him quieted almost instantly. Loki glanced back, eager to see the one person in this awful town that he actually cared about, and then frowned as a dumpy young woman walked to the front of the classroom.

"Hi," she said unceremoniously, a stack of papers in her hand, "I'm Crystal, and I'll be for TA for the year. Professor Ludwick got held up in a meeting and couldn't make this lecture, but we were just going to go over the syllabus and answer general questions. So… Does anyone have any general questions?"

The room fell silent, and Loki could actually feel himself twitching in rage. He had been waiting for this day ever since he realized this man could be his way off this planet, and the man didn't even have the decency to show up to the lesson!

"Okay, so if there aren't any questions, you can grab a syllabus at the front, or print it at home. See you Wednesday."

He glared at the woman as she placed the stack of papers at the end of his desk, and then departed as quickly as she arrived. This was… insanity. A few people drifted up to the front to grab a sheet of paper, and he could hear the rest of them dispersing from the room. Loki stayed glued to his seat, unable to bring himself out of it to leave. It was as though this Ludwick character had every way possible to avoid him, and he was doing it successfully.

He reached out stiffly and took the syllabus, and then stuffed it in his bag without bothering to read it over. A calming breath soon followed, and he assured himself that he could try to earn Ludwick's attention on Wednesday, which wasn't really all the far away. Slow and steady. Patience.

After sitting and glaring at the blackboard for some time, Loki eventually pushed himself out of his seat and left the room. He had the option of returning home, but there was one more class the finish the day with. For some reason, the woman who made his schedule seemed to think he was a history buff and had loaded him up with an Art History class on top of everything. If it was anything like the lesson he had this morning, Loki definitely did not want to attend. However, as he strolled through the cool corridors of the biology building, he remembered that Art History was what Max had a degree in from her first time around at the college. If she could do it, Loki was sure he would be competent enough to get through it.

So, with that in mind, he returned to the large map to chart his way back to Hilson Hall from his current location, and was forced to wait outside the room until the current class came to an end. There was a pair of girls already waiting, and Loki had the unfortunate luck to make eye contact with one. She smiled, and Loki quickly forced a smile in return and pretended to rummage around in her bag. He had a sinking suspicion they might try to engage in conversation with him. Mercifully enough, just as one of them started to direct her conversation over toward him, the door to the classroom opened and students flooded out. Pleased, Loki darted in through the swarm and managed to find himself a seat off to the side. Unfortunately, the girls followed closely, and picked the two desks in front of him to occupy.

He continued to pretend to have something fascinating at the bottom of his bag for quite some time, until he felt the presence of someone standing directly beside him. It was a little too close to ignore, and Loki frowned as he looked up.

"Surprise!" Max said with a smirk, "Guess who is your TA for this course?"

"Oh, don't let me guess," Loki sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. "Is it Ben?"

"You know, you could have gone a little easier on him," she reprimanded, nudging his shoulder a little with her hand. "I mean… You kind of ruthlessly stomped on his happy bubble with a few words. Kind of harsh."

"Maybe he needed a fresh dose of honesty," Loki told her, which made her roll her eyes. "Don't you think it's a tad unethical that you'll be looking over my work when we live together?"

"Oh, I'm not the only TA," she insisted as she nodded up to the front. "There's four of us… I've already told the prof about our relationship, so, uhm…"

She trailed off, tucking her hair behind her ear, a faint hint of colour on her cheeks, "Uh, so I just won't grade any of your stuff."

"Oh, good," Loki chuckled, "because I'm sure you'd be merciless."

The girl sucked in her cheeks a little as she tried not to laugh, and then waved a quick farewell as a dapper professor marched up the front of the classroom. He was a little older, perhaps mid-century for humans, slim, and clad in an unfortunate clash of stripes.

"Afternoon everyone," the professor greeted, his voice a notch too high for a man, which made Loki smirk a little. "My name is Garret Russ and I'll be your guide to the history of art. Well, an introduction to it, anyway! I've got four lovely TAs that will take the majority of your work to mark, so be nice, ladies and gents."

There was a titter of laughter, though Loki remained quiet. Thrilling. Just exhilarating, this fellow.

"Okay, so we're going to go over the syllabus today, and our first actual lecture will be next time…"

Oh for goodness sake. No. He wasn't staying for this tripe again. Loki grabbed his backpack and stood up, and as quietly as he could, sauntered through the desks and quickly left the room. Max may have been able to do this course, and by default Loki would be fine at it, but he wasn't going to sit there for another hour as the professor read something he could do in five minutes on his own. Ridiculous waste of time.

"Loki!"

He only stopped after Max called his name twice more, and finally turned around just as she came to a stop in front of him.

"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice a little breathy; clearly, she had been exerting herself in those ten paces down the corridor.

"Home," he replied. "These introduction lectures are a huge waste of my time. I can read a sheet of paper just as well as the professor can, shockingly enough."

"But he talks about other things too," Max insisted, grabbing hold of his arm before he could walk off again. "I mean, he elaborates, and he'll answer questions if you have any."

"Max," Loki said firmly, "I'm going home. I'll see you after."

"You can't miss classes on the first day," she argued weakly, her grip tightening on him. "I mean, we have a name game planned so everyone can get to… get to know each other…"

She trailed off as his eyebrows shot up, and she sighed, "Yeah, okay, go home."

"Don't look so sad, Max," he chuckled as he gently pried her hand off his arm. "We do live together, you know… You'll get to see my smiling face soon."

The girl rolled her eyes, "Shut up. I'm only doing this for the betterment of your education."

"Right," he said with a laugh. "I'll keep that in mind."

They stared at one another for a moment, and Loki was the first to turn away. He glanced over his shoulder as he approached the exit, and she was still standing there, arms folded, shaking her head at him. Honestly, the effort she put into sorting out his fake school career was just astounding…

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**So Loki doesn't have a single clue about crushes. Nope. I think it'll take him a while to recognize the start of an attraction, mostly because he dislikes himself so much, so I doubt he'd even really be aware that someone else might develop feelings for him. **

**There we have it, Loki's fairly dull, ordinary first day. I did a bit of a mix of my own experiences. Some profs just read the syllabus for twenty mintues and send you on your way, and you're like wtf guy. Others will lecture for the full time (usually 3 hours in my case) and then you're still like wtf guy. So, nobody wins… ever. **

**Also, welcome Ben. He's my shameless plug at adding a character similar to Reid from **_**Criminal Minds**_**, so yeaaay. **

**This chapter doesn't leave me especially happy, but I think if I rewrote it, it would turn out just the same. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Love all the reviews and support I've been getting for it, and you can expect another chapter sometime in the next week!**


	8. Beer Pong Champions

The first week of school had been actually much more stress free than Max had expected. She only had four classes of her own for the term, and then the introduction to art history that she was a teacher's assistant with. It wasn't necessarily a free week for her, but she had enough time to pull two four hour shifts at the campus bookstore during the week without feeling like it was too hectic. The classes thus far were similar to ones she had done over the last two years, but with more in-depth examinations of exhibit detailing, management tactics, curatorial science, and one course that dealt with her area of interest: weaponry. Yeah, she liked artwork, sculptures, and grand exhibits of reconstructed history, but Max had always been interested in weapons, from the bow to the canon to the tank, and she was really excited to finally be getting a more hands-on approach to studying what she enjoyed in one of her classes.

Even the introductory course with her undergraduate students was fun because it was a great refresher, and after attending three of the lectures this week, she knew it was going to be a good year. Her professor was funny and intelligent, the other TAs were all hardworking grad students that shared her interests, and it was actually kind of cool to have her roommate in the course with her as a way to get feedback from the undergrad perspective.

Mind you, that would be a lot easier if her dear roommate actually showed up to class. He left Monday's introductory lecture early, did not show up on Wednesday, and was only present today, Friday, because Max relentlessly harassed him that morning. Now, in her final undergrad years she definitely hadn't gone to every single one of her classes, but that was because she earned that right. She spent her first two years gauging which classes she could get away with skipping and which classes she definitely couldn't, and she went from there. However, Loki only seemed interested in going to his bio class, which was fair enough seeing as that class and that prof were the reasons he decided to come to St. Judith's. However, she still stood behind what she told him on the first day; if he failed his other four classes, they would boot him out on academic merit alone.

She didn't _need_ to fuss over Loki. He was a grown man, and she was sure he could figure out what would happen if he didn't attend his classes. However, she sort of felt bad for him; here he was in a new country to attend a school to be taught by a man she perceived to be as his hero, and he had no support from his family, very few friends, and seemed to be carrying a lot of baggage from his previous life with him. It must have sucked, to be honest. Max wanted him to feel excited about life again, to actually enjoy his undergraduate years; despite how much she complained during it, they were some of her favourite years with her friends, and Loki had every right to experience that!

Plus she had a little bit of a crush on him: that had to make a difference. It wasn't a big enough crush to interfere with their living situation, and it hadn't amplified any since she first realized she was prone to feeling a little giddy around the guy. In all honesty, it would probably blow off in a month or so, and they could laugh about it by Christmas… or maybe Easter. She hadn't ever had a crush on a roommate before, but she took it as a sign that they were compatible enough to live together, which could be a great sign for the future. However, it was a little difficult not to feel stupid when she needlessly laughed at something he said, or caught herself staring at him while they were eating one of their shared meals on the kitchen island. However, it wasn't a concern to her; Max wasn't one to feel flustered by her feelings. It was all natural, and if she felt an attraction toward someone, she wasn't about to guilt it out of herself.

Well, she might. It had been a habit when she was in her late teens, but now that she was getting into her late twenties, it seemed like an exhausting waste of time. Besides, Loki hadn't given any indication that he noticed or cared about a little crush, and he hadn't been acting any different toward her since the small crush developed, so… whatever.

Tonight was the first Friday of the new school term, and everyone was officially back in town. She had a fairly large circle of decent friends, and within it a smaller circle of close friends. Patricia would always be her best friend, and since she left there hadn't been anyone in Masonville that was able to fill that position. Just as she said, Patricia had gone back to New York City once her week was up, and they had been in touch a few times since. It was sad to see her go, but she couldn't dwell on it; there were other things to do on the first Friday of the new term!

Loki was fairly neutral when she told him that morning that Ben and his roommates were hosting a party that night down the street, but she spent the entire day working on a speech that would nag him into going.

Thus far, it was not going well.

"But you'll get to meet so many new people," she argued weakly. Her speech seemed to have little effect on the man, and he stared over the edge of his biology textbook at her, eyebrows raised. "I mean, you can't spend your first Friday reading biology…"

"Max," he said firmly, readjusting himself in the couch corner a little, "I don't care about meeting new people. I thought I had made that perfectly clear."

"But you can't just have me for a friend here," she insisted, poking his knee as she sat cross-legged on the coffee table. "We don't have to go for long."

"_We _don't have to go anywhere," he argued, finally closing his book and setting it beside him. "You can go by yourself… You don't need me to accompany you everywhere."

"No, I don't," she agreed, "but you should do it for yourself. Once we get into the school year, you'll be busy all the time and you'll wish you went out when you had the chance. Besides, what if I promise you you'll have a great time?"

"I sincerely doubt you can promise me that," Loki told her frankly. He then rolled his eyes, his shoulders slumping a little, "I also doubt you'll leave me alone until I agree to go with you."

"Aww, you know me so well," Max chuckled as she smiled triumphantly. "We can just go in, introduce you around, drink a little, and then head out. We'll go for an hour, tops… unless you're having fun."

"Drink a little what, exactly?" he asked as she slid off the coffee table to her feet, "I refuse to drink any of that horrific swill I had on my first night here."

"Swill?"

"It's a-"

"I know what swill is, but who says that?" Max snorted, "I'm going to change, and then we can head out around ten. It's a kegger, so we'll be drinking beer… No vodka for you, pumpkin."

"What?"

"Never mind," she sighed as she sauntered back to her room. "Just be ready to go in twenty minutes."

"I'm ready now."

"Well… Keeping reading about evolution or something until I'm ready."

"Fine."

He still did not seem impressed with the idea, but she couldn't stop smiling at the fact that she had persuaded him to go anyway. Despite her failings with her initial speech about the good times she had during her first year at parties, it seemed like it all went a lot better once they actually started talking to one another. It was easy to make him see reason… or annoy him enough that he realized the alternative was a lot better.

Once in her room, she opted for a pair of fitted dark jeans and a purple v-neck t-shirt. It was still warm enough in the first week of September to get away with not wearing a coat, but based on next week's forecast, this might be the only night of the month where she didn't need anything more than a t-shirt. With the outfit sorted, she quickly darted into the bathroom to throw on a bit more make-up than the usual mascara. Loki was still on the couch when she peaked back in, feet up on the coffee table, book in his arms, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes.

She studied just as hard as any average student, if not more. However, everyone needed a night off every now and again or they'd burn out, and if he simply sat in his room and read through his textbooks every night, as he had been doing, burnout was where he was headed. If he wasn't reading his textbooks, he was watching the news. If he wasn't watching the news, he was jogging. If he wasn't jogging, she was harassing him to do something. It wasn't a good cycle.

With her make-up taken care of – this time a little cover-up and some eyeshadow to accompany the mascara – Max turned on her curler and sat on the toilet as the device heated up. Normally, she had a book in the bathroom, but she had taken it out before Loki moved in because she was worried he might judge her a little. However, it was moments like these where she contemplated moving it back in. Let him think what he wanted… Maybe _he_ could do with a book while he was doing a number two!

Awkward thought.

Once the curler was warm enough, she set about taming some of the frizzy waves into nice curls, and spent a good ten minutes in battle. However, as usual, she got fairly bored after she got through one layer of hair, and hoped that would be good enough to cover the entire head. She gave herself a once over in the mirror and then nodded, pleased that it looked like she put in some effort, but not too much.

"Max," she heard Loki whine from the living room, "it's five after ten. Are we leaving or not?"

"Yes," she groaned, rolling her eyes a little as she turned off the bathroom light and then ducked back into her room. She managed to slide her sleek phone into her pocket, and then grabbed a twenty from her wallet. She had learned a long time ago that it was unwise to bring a purse to a party, even if the hosts were personal friends.

"Max…"

"I'm coming," Max snapped. "Fuck."

"This is cutting into our hour at the party," Loki told her, and she spotted him standing near the door, shoes already on. He certainly looked fetching in a pair of light jeans, fitted just right, and a plain white t-shirt. And flip-flops. He was like a surfer. A sexy British surfer. Max shook her head.

"The hour didn't start at ten," she told him, rolling her eyes a little as she grabbed her key off the counter. "It starts when we get there."

"Well, let's get there, shall we?"

"Dude, calm down," she laughed as he opened the front door. Max pulled on a pair of flats and hurried out after him, "When was the last time you were at a party?"

"A very long time," he replied. He stood out on their front cement porch, arms folded as he stared at the empty parking lot in front of the apartment building. "Eons, it seems…"

"Guess we'll have to start making up for that," Max told him. She quickly locked the front door and then hopped off the cement porch, coming to his side as they strolled toward the street. Ben only lived a few streets over, so there was no need to call a taxi or take the bus.

The night was beautiful: the perfect temperature and a sky filled with stars. She smiled as she gazed upward, and then hastily nudged Loki.

"Look!" she ordered, "You can see the Big Dipper tonight!"

"The what?"

"The Big Dipper," Max repeated, pointing out the constellation with her finger. "It's shaped like a big spoon."

"What a clever name," Loki droned as he stared up, squinting a little. "I'm not even sure where to look."

"I'll find you a picture," Max insisted as she pulled up her phone and dragged up the wireless option. She then searched for a quick image to present to him. "See… It's shaped like a spoon."

He stared down at her screen, and then tilted himself back up to study the sky, "Oh, yes, I see it now."

She pursed her lips as she slipped her phone back into her pocket, and then stared at him for a moment, "You don't see it, do you?"

"No."

"Whatever, let's go," she chuckled as she started walking again.

They crossed the street quickly, despite the fact there wasn't a car in sight, and then strolled along until they reached the turning point for Ben's street. It was all student housing around the college, and as they walked, they passed several house parties well underway.

"Hey man," a guy slurred as they marched passed the spot he was leaning on against a fence. "You want a beer?"

For a moment, Loki looked as though he was contemplating taking the stranger's spare red cup of mysterious alcohol. Stunned, Max grabbed his arm and tugged him away.

"Don't take anyone's drink," she told him firmly. "You never know what they put in it… Always make your own."

"I wasn't going to take it," he assured her. "I may be a little ignorant, but I'm not an imbecile, Max."

"Well, you hesitated," Max said, quirking an eyebrow at him. "I had to be sure."

He sighed and she shot him a grin. They received several more offers of alcohol and various kinds of drugs on the walk down to Ben's, and Max had almost forgotten what the majority of September was like on weekend nights; people were crazy. They were all back together with friends they had missed for the summer, or were finally away from their parents again and could partake in the college experience. Loki seemed to be studying each party they passed curiously, and she wondered if they had these sorts of things in England.

They arrived at Ben's house shortly after, and there were a few people seated on the lawn chairs in the front. She only knew two of them, but she greeted everyone and introduced herself to the ones she didn't know. In high school, she hadn't been an overly confident person, but age brought that about, and having a wide circle of friends meant there was some sort of comfort at these sorts of things. Usually, even if she didn't know some of the people at parties, she usually knew the majority, so making conversation was never too difficult.

She made sure to introduce Loki around, and to his credit he actually looked quite friendly. Maybe he and Ben could make peace after their tense lunch conversation earlier in the week; it couldn't have been tense for Loki, but Ben seemed a little put down afterward. Normally people entertained his theories about various deities because it was polite to do so, but Loki shot him down without a second thought. Harsh.

"So, it's ten bucks for the keg from everybody," her friend Jeff explained as he rose from the mismatched lawn chair. "I've got change if you need it."

"Here's a twenty for both of us," Max said before Loki could inform her he hadn't brought any money, which was becoming a bit of a pattern lately. However, she forced him to come here, so she figured the only decent thing to do would be to pay for his entrance.

Jeff thanked her, and she tugged at Loki's arm, directing him toward the actual house. Ben lived with three other grad students that Max had known since she was an undergrad, and she felt almost as comfortable in his house as she did in her own. It was a cosy two-storey place with a lot of furniture that looked like it had been collected and thrown together over the years. The kitchen was always a mess, and the upstairs was a sauna in the summer, but the boys had been happy enough to live there all these years, so there must have been something good about it. Normally, it was pretty small, but with at least two dozen extra people scattered in the living room, kitchen, and trailing into the backyard, it felt completely crammed. Loki followed closely behind her, and when she glanced back, he wore an irritated look as he observed the ongoing festivities.

"So, welcome to an American party," she told him over the music. "Normally it's a lot smaller, but I guess everyone was really down for a party tonight."

"What are they doing?" Loki asked. He nodded behind her, and she turned back to spy a group of people dancing near the laptop-speaker conjunction in the corner of the living room. There was one couple grinding fairly excessively, but the rest of the singletons were jumping around, drinks in hand, laughing, swaying, stumbling.

"They're dancing," she replied, raising her eyebrows. "What, do they dance differently in England?"

"Well, we don't look like we're somewhere between sex and a seizure back home," Loki mused, which made her chuckle a little; it was a pretty accurate observation.

"Come on," Max laughed, tugging him away from the scene. "Let's get a drink."

As predicted, she found the keg in the kitchen, but it took about fifteen minutes to get there through all the people who wanted to say hello or ask about her summer. Loki loomed behind her, clearly not interested in partaking in conversation unless someone spoke directly to him. However, once again to his credit, his face seemed much calmer than she expected, not quite as annoyed as she was sure he was feeling. She introduced him all around, and there were a few people that seemed interested in him simply because he was a foreign object in a normally familiar, boring territory.

"Max!"

"Ben, hey!" she greeted, slipping through a couple to give her friend a hug, "Thanks for the invite."

"Oh yeah," he said with a smile, running a hand through his hair. "I figured you… Oh, you brought Loki."

"I didn't want him sitting home alone on a Friday night when I knew you'd be having a great party," Max reasoned. "He promised to be nice. He isn't normally a jerk."

"I didn't assume as much," her friend told her. "I'll go say hello."

"Good man," she said, giving him a smile. Max then finally managed to get over to the keg, and she filled two cups with whatever dark liquid came out of it. She took a cautious sniff; she had no plans to get trashed tonight, and she didn't want to have anything too strong. Loki seemed to share her sentiment based on the aversion to vodka she had created, and she didn't want to put him off drinking for good; what else do undergrads do?

She found her way back to Loki, but Ben had already taken him under his wing and was showing him off to some of the people out in the backyard. Loki shook hands stiffly with a few of the guys camped out on the sketchy picnic table, and just as she was about to approach, she was cut off by a sea of black hair.

"Hey, girl," Erica greeted, smiling her usual sweet smile. "It's been forever!"

"Yeah, hey," Max agreed. "How are you?"

She wasn't especially close with Erica; the girl was on the outer rim of her friendship circle, and had been there ever since she slept with her ex a few weeks after they broke up. At this point, Max didn't care all that much because it was well over three years ago, but it had always left a poor taste in her mouth. They had been better friends before the incident, and after Max spent a while being frosty toward the curvaceous English major, she got over it and moved on. Sort of.

"So, who is that guy you came with?" Erica asked as she linked her arm around Max's. "He's gorgeous."

"Oh, he's my new roommate, Loki," Max replied honestly.

"Introduce me as soon as possible," Erica ordered, shooting her a wink before drifting off back toward the backdoor of the house. Max forced a smile and nodded.

Fuck that.

Shaking her head, she hurried back to Loki and handed him his drink. He gave some sort of strangled laugh at the joke Ben's roommate Corey was telling, and then took a sip, which was followed by a cough.

"This is atrocious," he hissed. Max winced a little at the irritation in his eyes as he glared at her, and then gulped some down: a mixture of beer and clearly whatever else was around the house. Awesome.

"Yup, it's pretty bad," Max agreed apologetically. "Drink slow."

Loki rolled his eyes and took another small sip, grimacing.

"So, Max," she heard Corey start, "I heard you and Pat were undefeated at beer pong last time we did this?"

"Correct, my good sir," Max chuckled, smirking a little. "I play to kill."

"I'll take that challenge," Corey told her as he down the remainder of his drink. "Bet the summer left you a little rusty."

"Horseshit, the summer makes me awesome," Max argued, watching as he and his other roommate, Garret, cleared off the picnic table. A few scattered people around the backyard paused to give them a little bit of attention, but when they saw Garret setting up the cup formation for beer pong, the chatting and laughing resumed; it was a pretty long, tedious game for the audience, after all.

"What's happening?" Loki inquired as he too watched the preparations.

"Oh, we're going to play beer pong," Max told him, pleased that she had found an even better way to integrate him into her group of friends. "It's fun."

She took his drink and set both of them down on the closed barbeque nearby. Ben appeared moments later with what seemed to be a cup of water and a pitcher of whatever was in the keg, and he commenced filling the cups with a small amount for either team.

"_We _are not doing anything-"

"It'll be fun," Max insisted. "Okay, so we basically try to get that tiny ball into the other team's cup, and when we do, they drink it. If we miss, we lose our turn and they get to go. If they get one in ours, we drink. That's… That's the basic rundown of it."

There were so many other little rules here and there, but she figured she could get them in as the game wore on.

"What's the point of it?" Loki inquired dryly. Max shrugged.

"Drink slowly and competitively?" she asked, glancing across the table at Garret. He shrugged too. "We just do it for fun. There doesn't need to be another reason."

As usual, he was reluctant to do anything that he wasn't completely comfortable with, but Max used the same line as always, "How do you know you don't like it unless you try?"

The glare he shot her this time was quite menacing, but it meant that she won once again. Pleased, she took up her position on her end of the picnic table.

"Oh, and we can defend our cups," Max told him. "And we can-"

"How about I watch and do what you do?" Loki asked tightly, "I'm sure it doesn't take a genius to play this game…"

"You'd be surprised at the level of coordination it takes to get a ball of this size and lightness into a cup, depending on the distance and level of intoxication," Ben interjected before Max could come up with a witty retort. "Usually, the game can last for well over a half an hour to an hour based on those factors alone, not considering the strength of the drink-"

"Okay, Ben," Garret sighed. "Can you just flip the coin?"

"Oh, right," the shaggy-haired man chuckled, retrieving a quarter and flipping it up. "Call it!"

"Heads!" Max shouted before Garret could get his say in. She grinned when it landed in her favour, which meant she and Loki could start. She snatched the ball from Ben and then shifted into her proper stance, "Prepare to drink, bitches."

* * *

Loki still didn't quite understand the point of this 'beer pong' game, but somehow they won in about forty minutes. It didn't appear that the purpose was to get drunk, as there were only small amounts of alcohol in each cup, and he could understand how it might go on for long periods of time. He actually managed to get that pesky little ball into a few cups, though he missed several. No one seemed to mind, though there were a few teasing comments thrown his way by his new "friends". Most of the time that Corey fellow couldn't get a ball in either, and twice they had to search for it in the grass when he missed by a longshot.

He hadn't wanted to come out tonight. He had no intentions of attending some human party crawling with drunk people and inferior beings. The only kind of party he wanted to go to was one thrown by the Asgardians in his honour, but that seemed a long way away: wishful thinking at its finest.

Normally, he was quite good about holding his own against Max, but she had been especially irritating today. She harangued him all morning about not going to any of his classes aside from the one he cared about with Ludwick, and was then especially persistent about getting him off that couch that evening. If he tried hard enough, he could still scare most humans off with a glare and a warning, but Max seemed completely oblivious to his threats.

If only she knew about the real rage that simmered just beneath the surface… Well, perhaps she wouldn't push him so hard all the time. Unfortunately, she had been right – _again_ – and Loki was actually having an adequate time out of the house. The game had been just enjoyable enough to keep him mildly entertained, mostly because of Max's competitiveness and her playful banter with the boys. Besides, it wasn't like he was in a terrible mood that day; Ludwick had complimented him on a particularly thoughtful answer he gave in the lecture on organic compounds, and he earned a smile he hadn't seen given to other students. This all meant progress: slow and steady progress.

And now at this little gathering thrown by the all-knowing Ben – he scoffed at the thought – Loki had actually managed to rub a few people the right way. It never hurt to have a few more allies on one's rise to power, and some of them were engineers-in-training, along with another young scientist. Networking like this might prove more effective than he anticipated, and perhaps one day he might thank Max for all the effort she put in for him.

But then again, he might not. What would one human matter when he is returned to a godly status?

"So, you're into science, huh?"

Loki sighed. Max had left him with Ben to go find a bathroom some time ago, complaining about feeling a little sick. They hadn't had much to drink, and it was fairly clear that they had the same tolerance for alcohol. Loki wondered if it might have been the fish they prepared for dinner that night; he knew it wasn't cooked fully.

"Yes," Loki replied, staring down at his red cup filled with that horrendous liquid. He had picked it back up after the game, but he had no desire to drink any of it for the remainder of the night. His hour at this house had come and gone, and he was itching to go home and crawl into bed. "I like science."

"That's great," Ben managed, clearly grasping at nothing to keep this exhausted conversation going. "Do you have any plans for it?"

"Not currently."

"Okay."

"Finally," Loki groaned when he spotted Max come traipsing out the back door and into the yard. "I think I might be going. Thank you for hosting this… event."

Ben stared at him for a moment, and then nodded, "Yeah, man, it was great you came down…"

Loki frowned when he saw his roommate stumble to the side and cling to the fence, clutching at her stomach as she doubled over. That certainly wasn't normal behaviour. He was soon on his feet, hurrying across the yard to investigate; if she was going to be physically sick, she might as well do it here and spare their bathroom the stench.

"Loki," she whimpered, her eyes out of focus when he kneeled down in front of her, "I don't… I don't really feel good."

He pressed a hand to her forehead out of habit, "Do you think it was the fish?"

"N-No," she stammered.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ben inquired as he joined the conversation, kneeling down to push some hair out of her face. It was at that moment that Loki noticed the boy's complete and utter infatuation with his roommate; did Max have any idea?

"Something doesn't feel right," Max replied weakly. She grasped at Loki's wrist, "I want to go home."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Loki remarked. "Let's… stand up then, shall we?"

"No," she whined. "No, I don't want to."

"Is she drunk?" Ben asked, "I don't remember seeing her drink much more than what you did at the game."

"Been paying close attention, have we?" Loki mused. He smirked a little and then returned his attention to Max, "Right, what's the problem?"

"Stuff isn't moving right," she told him, which made him sigh. "Please take me home."

"All right, but you have to stand up first," Loki told her, his patience dwindling with each passing moment. Sandwiched between Ben and the fence was not a place he wanted to be. "Here, give me your hands."

She placed a pair of shaky hands in his, and he realized she was sweating, her eyes still unfocused.

"Ben," someone called sharply, which made both men looked up. "Hey man, can you call the cops?"

"What?" Ben asked, rising to his feet quickly, "Why?"

"Tiff found some asshole Corey invited trying to spike her drink," the new arrival explained. "We've got him locked in the closet."

"Jeez," Ben groaned, turning back to Max and kneeling down again. "Max, did you drink something that wasn't yours?"

She shook her head, and Loki quickly realized what had happened.

"Okay, but you put your drink down to play beer pong, didn't you?" the man asked. The girl merely stared at Loki, eyes a haze, and asked him to take her home. Ben shook his head, "Don't take her anywhere. I'm going to get a police officer over, and then we should take her to the hospital."

Loki watched the man retrieve a mobile device from his pocket and then dart off to make the call. His jaw clenched; he couldn't have a police officer come by. He couldn't risk any law official finding him; he had no idea how far S.H.I.E.L.D could reach, but he wasn't going to take that risk.

"Max," he said firmly, giving her shoulders a bit of a shake. "Would you like me to carry you home?"

She nodded, muttering something softly under her breath. He rolled his eyes a little and then turned around, grasping both arms and wrapping them around his neck. In one fluid movement, he hoisted her up and she snaked her legs around his waist. Luckily, her weight was small enough for him to move unhindered, and he made his escape through the back gate. He moved them quickly down the pathway to the sidewalk, and then began retracing his previous steps back to their apartment.

He could hear a siren one street over, but at that point they were nearly home, and Loki was pleased he had avoided any sort of entanglement with the law. If Max wasn't sorted by the following morning, he would find her medical attention. For now, he planned to put her to sleep on the couch so that she didn't die during the night in bed, and then spend some time researching the location of a certain Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Bruce Banner. Their information surely wouldn't be blatantly sprawled on the first online site he checked with Max's laptop, but he was sure someone somewhere had recorded at least one of their movements since the incident earlier in the year.

"Loki," he heard her whisper, her head resting against his.

"Yes?"

"Did you have some fun tonight?" Max asked, her speech a little slurred.

"Oh, aside from this?" he asked. She was silent, and he glanced to the side to make sure she was still conscious. She was, but it seemed only barely, "Yes, tonight was decent."

"Good," Max murmured, nuzzling his neck in a way that made him a little uncomfortable. "I just wanted you to have some fun."

"Well, I… You did well, Max," he managed, readjusting his grip on her thin legs as their apartment loomed nearby. "Please don't retch on me."

"Okay," she sighed dreamily. "Good night…"

Oh, for the love of all things good…

Loki sighed irritably; this was going to be a long night.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Sooo first party fail of the year. There will be more to come. I definitely like the idea of people having crushes on people who have absolutely no idea that anything other than a platonic relationship exists between them. Poor Benny. **

**So it's really late for me, and my eyes are randomly closing and sticking – odd. So, hopefully there weren't too many mistakes. Date rape drugs are not for the lolz, and I definitely didn't intend it to be if that came across as it. I've had a friend drugged while we were at a bar once, and it sucked. **

**However, Loki playing nurse-maid does seem a little funny to me… **

**Thank you for all the support, reviews, adds and everything! Stick around for an update in the near future!**


	9. Lightning strikes

When Max felt herself come to, she felt like absolute hell. Her limbs shook, her stomach screamed, and everything felt like someone had beat the holy hell out of her sometime during the night. Her eyes resisted her bidding to open for a short time, but when they finally did, she discovered she was on the living room couch with absolutely no recollection of how she got there. The blinds were still down over the windows, blocking out the sun from the kitchen and by the front door: what a blessing. Although it pained her, she managed to get herself up and into a sitting position, her duvet rolling down her body as she moved. It didn't feel much better to be vertical, but her arm had fallen asleep, and it was pretty obvious she had been in one position since she passed out.

Scratching at her scalp, she groaned a little and spotted Loki sprawled out on the other couch, the one usually reserved for coats and unwanted pillows. He was still wearing the same outfit from yesterday, minus the shoes, and Max suddenly noticed that she was still in her jeans and t-shirt. He had an arm thrown over his face, her laptop under his legs, and several mugs scattered across the coffee table.

What the hell had happened? Why were they in the living room? She couldn't place anything that had happened at the party after they won their game of beer pong, and she started to feel herself panic. Why couldn't she remember? She had _never _experienced a blackout episode because she was too drunk; yes, she had been really, really wasted out of her mind before, but there were never incidents in her drinking history where she had zero recollection of an entire night after a certain point. Plus she was experiencing a wicked hangover, even worse than the one induced from her and Loki's vodka adventure. All she wanted to do was curl up somewhere and go back to the unconsciousness. However, now that she was awake, that seemed fairly unlikely.

With a hand on the back of the couch, she managed to push herself shakily to her feet, only to have her stomach do cartwheels and send her flying down to the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her and proceeded to empty her entire gut out into the toilet, eyes watering at the violent upheaval. Something had to have happened at that party to get her like this, because had had only had _maybe_ one full beer from her beer pong shots combined, and then whatever was in the keg. She wasn't sure if Loki felt like this, but he didn't look quite as wrecked as she did. She puked one and off for a good ten minutes or so, and when it finally felt like there was nothing left inside, she flushed and leaned back against the bathtub, shaking and teeth chattering.

What the fuck? Seriously.

Groaning a little, she managed to get herself to her feet to wash her face and rinse her mouth out, and then quickly brush her teeth. She may have felt atrocious on the inside, but she didn't need to have caked on make-up and morning breath for the outside. Once she was finished there, she staggered back to her room and started to strip out of her tight jeans. There were indent marks down her legs and around her waist, and she kicked off her underwear in order to slip into a pair of her comfiest sweatpants. She then dragged her t-shirt over her head and threw it on the floor, followed shortly by her bra, which had also left marks on her body.

"Oh, oh you're… shirtless," she heard Loki stammer from her open doorway, and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Thank God she had been facing the other way, or she would have totally flashed him. However, she definitely wasn't in the mood or headspace to actually care that much that he had seen her, and she quickly threw on a sweater and sauntered back out the living room.

"Sorry," Loki muttered as he leaned against the kitchen island, arms folded across his chest. "I saw you were up and I just wanted to check-"

"It's fine," she said shortly, waving off his embarrassment and then plopping herself back down on the couch. She then wrapped herself in her duvet and leaned against the back of the couch, her body an absolute nightmare from all the movement, "Did I get drugged?"

"You did, actually," he informed her, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. It hadn't been a serious question; Max sort of just assumed something in the keg knocked her out. Loki cleared his throat and then eased himself onto one of the bar stools, hands resting on his knees. "Ben said some girl caught someone trying to put something in her drink… We assumed it happened to you and you consumed it, so I took you home."

"Oh my god," she moaned in disbelief, rubbing her hands across her face. "That's… That's fucking ridiculous. Are you serious?"

"We only went on assumption," Loki remarked, "but you weren't yourself when we left… You seemed far more intoxicated than you ought to have been for what you drank."

"Okay, okay, that makes a little bit of sense," Max muttered, nodding her head a little. "Why didn't we go to the hospital? I might have needed to get my stomach pumped, or something…"

"Well, I used my best judgement with that," he told her stiffly, and she realized she might have come across as ungrateful. "You seemed a little drowsy, but otherwise fine. You fell asleep once I put you on the couch and got your shoes off."

"You took me shoes off?" she chuckled. He nodded, discomfort plain on his face, and she smiled, "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"It seemed like the only decent thing to do," Loki told her. "Who knows what would have happened if I left you with your little friend…"

"What?"

"Ben," Loki said, his eyes suddenly alight mischievously. "You know he's just a little bit in love with you?"

Her eyebrows knitted together as she stared at him, her jaw open just a tad, and then shook her head, "No… No, he isn't. We've been friends since high school, so we're close. That's all."

"Right," he snorted, sliding off the chair and sauntering toward her, "whatever you say."

She tilted her head back as he approached, and he placed a cool hand on her forehead suddenly, his eyes scrutinizing her in a way that made her feel a little awkward, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been drugged," she replied groggily, and he grinned a little. "Did you… Did you sleep on the couch last night?"

"Well, I didn't want you dying in your sleep, or anything," Loki told her as he felt under her chin, possibly feeling for swollen nodes or something.

Don't blush, she told herself – she was too sick to feel attracted to anything right now.

"Aww," she managed, batting her eyes at him. "Where would you live if I died?"

"I'd probably take your room, actually," he mused, giving her chin a little squeeze before finally releasing her. "I can hear our neighbours having sex through my walls."

"Awkward!" she laughed, wincing a little as her head raged at her for all the loudness. "They're just two passionate people living the dream."

"Yes, well," he said, seemingly flustered. "They could do it a little more quietly."

"Hey, don't tell me," Max mused as she wrapped the duvet around her a little more snugly. "Tell them."

"One day, I suspect," he muttered, shaking his head a little. "Now, would you like something to eat? Something to drink?"

Nothing seemed even the slightest bit appealing right now, but she knew she would have to start eating something in order to get whatever was in her system out. She shimmied down on the couch, her head tucked halfway under the comforter, and then glanced up at him, batting her eyelashes.

"Eggs?" she suggested, "And maybe just a glass of water for now."

"Right," she heard him say as he moved toward the kitchen. "I can do eggs."

Her eyes threatened to close for a moment, and she blinked a few times; just because she was warm and comfortable didn't mean she could go to sleep without eating anything.

"Wait," she said suddenly, sitting up a little and peering around the couch. She spotted him retrieving a glass from a cupboard, "Are _you_ actually cooking for _me_?"

"I know, the sky is falling," Loki mused as he returned shortly with a glass. "I assure you the world isn't ending, but seeing as you have been drugged by some idiot, I think the only decent thing to do would be to spoil you."

"Yum," she murmured as she accepted her water, chugging down half of it before setting it on the coffee table. The fridge opened noisily back in the kitchen, and she heard Loki sigh. Oh, right.

"We don't have any food," he told her, and she nodded into the couch. "I think we planned to go today, if I'm remembering correctly."

"You are," she said quietly. "It's fine. Maybe I'll just sleep and go out later when I feel better."

"Well, _I_ need something to eat," he emphasized, slamming the fridge door. "I'll go pick us something up."

"Okay," Max sighed, unwilling to form any coherent argument about why that wasn't really necessary. If he wanted something to eat and so happened to pick her up something too, that would be fantastic.

She heard him moving around the house for about ten minutes, migrating between his room and the bathroom. The apartment was small enough to hear pretty much everything, which had its pros and cons when you lived with another person. It was great to hear when someone came home, but it was a huge pain to listen to someone else's music or phone conversation.

"I'll return shortly," Loki told her, and she grinned beneath her duvet at his use of formal language, despite the fact it was just the two of them alone in the apartment. She suddenly felt a bony finger poke her sharply through the comforter, "Did you hear me?"

"Yes, yes, I heard you," she snapped, swatting his hand away. "Wait, before you go!"

She heard him stop, and she sat up a little, "Can I have more water?"

He shot her a bit of an annoyed look, but it lessened when she pouted at him from the depths of her duvet. He snatched the glass out of her hand and filled it back up, delivering it with a smile before stalking out of the apartment. Once she was completely alone, she reached out for the remote weakly and turned the TV on for something to get her mind off the pain in her body.

Why would someone drug girls at a party? _Especially_ a party where everyone pretty much knew each other, and there weren't twenty years old scattered about drinking illegally. It was supposed to be a quick little shindig where she could introduce Loki to everyone, maybe grab a drink or two, and then be home at a reasonable hour. That definitely wasn't how the night panned out, but she now knew for the future to be far more careful with her drinks, even in a place where she thought she was safe.

Flipping through the channels, she finally landed on a rerun of _Cake Boss_, and when she realized there was nothing else on for adults on a Saturday morning at ten, this was going to be the best she could get. So, she chucked the remote down on the coffee table, wrapped herself up in her duvet, and attempted to block out the nausea that was beginning to build in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

Loki couldn't believe how often they needed to go out and buy food. He had never shopped for groceries in his life, as the servants back home used to prepare that for him. As a god, he could go for longer without needing sustenance, and yet here it seemed that almost every week humans must restock their ice boxes with all sorts of fresh foods in order to survive. It only made it worse that he and Max were equally terrible at cooking and remembering that they needed food, and he predicted he was going to be spending a lot of the bank's money on food someone else prepared for him.

Shockingly, he wasn't especially upset to fetch Max something to eat that morning. After he had tucked her into the couch the night before, she hadn't so much as rolled over or forced him to do anything extra for her in her sickened state. He spent the majority of the night researching Stark Industries, along with all the information he could find on Steve Rogers. However, the mind was willing, but the flesh was weak and human, so he was forced to retire to get a little bit of sleep sometime around four that morning. Six hours later, he heard Max slam the bathroom door, and he realized it was time to face yet another day of being exceptionally ordinary. Thankfully, Max did not regurgitate anything onto him, and he did not have to deal with her mess in the bathroom.

For someone who had been drugged the night before, she handled herself rather well; she was coherent, functional, and still loaded with her usual sass that kept him on his toes. It was pretty clear that she felt terrible physically, so it made perfect sense for him to dote on her a little while she recovered. After all, she had fetched _him_ a meal while he recovered from that atrocious drinking game they had previously played, so now he was out of her debt with the favour returned.

His march to the downtown area took about ten minutes, as he was now used to a few short-cuts and throughways between neighbourhoods. He was blinded by the sun for the entire walk there, and the wind was chilly enough to make him regret wearing a shirt with short sleeves. However, he had few other ones that would not have been wearable currently, having only purchased thick sweaters and thin shirts for the extremes of this climate; it might take him a little while to get his wardrobe sorted.

However, as he stood inside the little sandwich deli, ordering an egg wrap for Max and a BLT – whatever that was – for himself, he noticed a very quick, abrupt chance in the weather. The skies clouded over, the wind picked up, and he predicted the arrival of a storm. He frowned as he stood in the window while waiting for his sandwiches to be toasted. No rain fell, and yet the sky was immediately dark, clouds full and heavy moving across the landscape. An older man and a young boy sat at a table nearby, clearly enjoying their own breakfast. Suddenly, the boy leapt out of his chair, pressing his hands to the glass.

"Duncan, what are you-"

"Did you see the lightning?" the boy cried, tapping on the glass as Loki eyed him distastefully. "I bet the thunder's coming soon."

"Sit back down," the older man scolded. "Don't press your hands against the glass."

Loki squinted at the sky once more, and then rolled his eyes as two prominent bolts of lightning ripped through the dark clouds. Well, wonder who that might be? He scoffed irritably, and then picked up his sandwiches from the counter. The attendant handed him a bag, and then told him to get home before the rain started; the rain was the farthest thing from his mind at this very moment. It certainly wasn't a concern. He departed from the shop quickly, but instead of hurrying to the shelter of his shared apartment, Loki took a stroll to the east in the direction of the trails where he occasionally jogged. If that bumbling false brother of his was going to show up anywhere, it certainly wasn't going to be in the town itself.

No, Thor was, supposedly, no longer a man who wanted flash and extravagance. He glanced up at the sky just as another bolt of lightning cracked across it, and he decided that some things might never change. It took him about fifteen minutes to reach the start of the thick forest, and he stood at the edge of the trail, a stern expression on his face. The mass of lightning seemed to resonate over this side of town, and he knew that if Thor was searching him out, it wouldn't take long for the Asgardian prince to find him. So, he remained rooted to the start of the dirt trail, hands clasped behind his back, eyes solemn and vengeful as he glared out at the dark forest.

He wasn't kept waiting for long. Shortly after his arrival, a figure emerged from the woods: wide, tall, a telling cape swishing with each step.

"Brother," Thor called, his voice venom to Loki's ears. He said nothing in return, keeping his features expressionless as the man approached. They stood before one another, the small smile falling from Thor's lips, and Loki quirked an eyebrow.

"Have you come to gloat?" Loki asked stiffly, "Surely the All-father knows everything that has happened to me since he banished me to this pitiful place."

"I would never gloat," the man boomed, shaking his head as though Loki were some child who couldn't quite understand everything. "I know the perils of living without one's power… I came to see how you were faring, perhaps give some advice-"

"I neither need nor want any advice from _you_," Loki spat, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "And do not pretend for a moment that you came to Midgard to see how I am faring. We both know you came to see your woman… _Jane_, was it?"

Thor's smile had completely disappeared now, and he knew that he had touched a nerve by bringing up the man's beloved. Really, what did he have to worry about? Loki hadn't the slightest idea where this Jane woman might be, and even if he did, he had no means to do anything to her in his current state.

"It seems you've found a woman of your own," Thor commented, nodding down to the bag in Loki's hand. "Does she have you fetching her breakfast already?"

His jaw clenched, but instead of engaging with him, Loki turned away and stalked back in the direction of the town, the first drops of rain hitting his head.

"No, don't walk away," he heard Thor say as he marched after him. "I do want to help you. I want to see you redeemed, and I want you back in Asgard where you belong."

"After everything I've done?" Loki sneered when he turned back to face him, a look of disgust on his face, "You can't be serious."

"The Gods do as they please with mortal realms, and you made a terrible decision, but it isn't one I will hold against you for the rest of our lives," Thor told him plainly. "You must be punished for your cruelty, and I think our father-"

"_Your_ father."

"-has done a fine job in charging you for your crime," he finished, emphasizing the last word for some effect. "You made a foolish play for power and you lost. We all want you to learn and come home where you belong, where you've always belonged."

Loki scoffed noisily and turned away once more. He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and he froze, hands balling into fists.

"Please, let me do something to help you," he heard Thor plead. "This punishment is terrible, and I know it firsthand. I have tips-"

"I have lived longer as a human now than you ever did," Loki hissed over his shoulder. "Do not pretend you have more experience in this area. You were a human for a few weeks, and the entire time you displayed yourself as a god regardless of your _lack_ of power. I cannot afford such luxuries."

"Come now," Thor laughed, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "It cannot be all that bad… I hear you've gone back to school with the woman you live with. Tell me, are you learning anything in class? Doing your assignments on time?"

There was a hint of a jab thrown into those comments, and Loki felt his eye twitch; Thor had pushed him a smidge too far. Without much thought, he whirled back and clocked the god directly in the face, slamming his fist into Thor's jaw with all the strength this pathetic body had to offer. Unfortunately, the contact hurt Loki more than it hurt Thor, and he stumbled away, clutching his battered hand to his chest, swearing violently at it.

"Careful, brother," Thor scolded, holding a hand to his face. "Don't hurt yourself…"

"Don't ever return to this place," Loki spat, ignoring his bloodied knuckles for the time being. "I have no need for your sort of advice. In fact, if I were to never see your face again in this lifetime, it would be a much happier one, I can assure you."

He reveled in the brief moment of hurt that flashed across the man's face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"Loki," Thor said softly, "I know you're angry-"

"Angry doesn't even _begin_ to describe how I _feel_," Loki seethed, glaring at the man with such hatred, such rage, that he thought he might attack him again. It would have been pointless, of course, and Loki instead turned and left the scene without another word. Thor also remained silent, and at the crack of another bolt of lightning, he was gone.

* * *

Max woke with a start when she heard the front door slam, and she groggily pushed herself up to see a soaking wet Loki storming across the room.

"Hey," she greeted, rubbing her eyes as she sat up completely. "Apparently it's raining."

"Yes."

He stood behind the couch and fished her out a sandwich from within a white plastic bag, and as he handed it to her, she noticed his knuckles were split and bleeding.

"Oh my god," she cried, ignoring the sandwich and grasping his hand. "What happened? Did you get in a fight at the deli? Dude, this looks awful-"

"It's nothing," Loki told her, wrenching his hand away.

She looked up at his face this time and she saw an anger in there that she had never seen since meeting him. He looked like he was ready to throttle someone; it was actually a little scary.

"No," she persisted, pushing herself off the couch and into a standing position despite her aching body. "No, it isn't nothing… Tell me what happened!"

"Max," he snapped, turning back to face her so sharply that she actually sat back down on the couch. "Don't ask me. It's none of your concern, and, quite frankly, none of your business."

"Okay, okay," she said quickly, holding up her hands to show her surrender. "Do you need any help?"

"_No_," he all but shouted. Max flinched when he slammed his bedroom door shut, and she sat on the couch, completely dumbfounded by the enormous change in demeanor from the time he left to the time he returned home.

What the hell had happened that got him so riled up? She actually felt a little shaken by the outburst, not used to men shouting and being this angry around her. Swallowing down the emotion that it brought out in her, she settled back into the couch and unwrapped the plastic outer layer of her sandwich, mind racing with possibilities that might have upset him this much.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**The way I kind of see Thor and Loki's relationship after Avengers was sort of how I see a lot of interactions between the Greek gods in their stories. They do so much stupid shit all the time, and yet they're sort of just like … mehh only a **_**few**_** humans died, it's fine. So, I see Loki being punished, but I don't think he would be held to the same level on Asgard with his adoptive family as he would by people on Earth.**

**I keep getting ahead of myself for this story. I have a lot of fun scenes planned, but I need to get there first. I also keep planning **_**way**_** too much of the sequel because I'm nerdishly excited for it, but we've got to power through this story first! I know people might be sniffing around for some sort of romance... Here is my little hint: it is currently September in the story, and by the end of October something will happen to make one person in our duo here realize they have some feelings for the other. That's all you get!  
**

**I also notice with this story I do a lot of dialogue... That's something I've always wanted to do, but I'm usually kind of bad at conversations. So, this story is kind of my breakout for that. It's fun!  
**

**Thank you for the continued support with reviews, adds to favourites, and everything else. The support for this story is actually overwhelming, and I love hearing from you guys! **


	10. Pinkberry Tarts

Right, so that bit about Max having free time with only four classes and two jobs? Nope, nothing of the sort.

Two weeks into September, and Max was already up to her eyeballs in work. The bookstore was chaos, as usual, at the start of the year, which meant her manager expected her to put in a few more hours than normal. The professor she assisted was super keen on giving everyone small assignments due each class, and by the end of the week, she had over sixty assignments to grade that were due for the following week. No more parties, no more socializing beyond Loki, her other teaching assistants and work friends, and definitely no more drinking; all of her spare time was stuck marking first year papers or writing up graduate work of her own for her classes.

Naturally, she hadn't marked any of Loki's assignments, as it wouldn't have been fair, but he always managed to persuade her to help him write up something just bullshitted enough on her laptop in order to get at least an eight out of ten. He could have done it himself, as he was more than capable of coming up with the answers for the discussion questions posed, but she usually gave him a little nod if he was right on the money for the answer key, or careful prodding to get him there. It didn't necessarily bother her; he spent most of him time trying to impress his biology prof, and it only made sense that he wasn't one for the arts or history when his mind was somewhere else.

It wasn't until about a week ago that her roommate really started to put some sort of effort into all of his courses. Yes, he went to class, but most of the time he ignored assignments and had already missed two quizzes in his media and technology lecture. Max could only nag him about it so much, and it wasn't until she stopped that he seemed to get the message – or the memo from the counselor's office pertaining all the class hours had had missed since the term started actually managed to scare some sense into him.

Whatever it was, it had worked. They usually spent their nights doing homework with the TV on in the background, her on the couch, undergrad papers scattered everywhere, and he at the kitchen island, textbooks galore in front of him as he produced handwritten assignments, which was almost unheard of in this day and age. So far, no one had given him his assignment back and told him to type it, and the only time he actually typed notes was for her lesson and that was because she knew her professor wouldn't accept anything handwritten. He did have especially pretty handwriting, mind you, which she loved to point out whenever she hovered over his shoulder to spy on what he was doing: very neat… for a boy.

So, despite the fact that Loki hadn't been much more social over the course of the month, Max stopped caring. Well, no, she _cared_, but she couldn't go out there and make friends for him. There seemed to be a gaggle of eighteen year olds who liked sitting near him in her class, and most of the time he looked annoyed with their presence. However, he hadn't gone out to socialize with new friends, nor did he have a cell phone or computer with which to connect to other people on social networks. So, essentially, she was his world: she and his bio professor.

Loki kept trying to speak with his professor after class, only to be rebuffed or beaten to the line by his classmates, and she nodded sympathetically as he ranted while they cooked dinners. It was difficult to get a professor on their own during lecture hours, and when she suggested he look up the man's office hours, the idea seemed a little baffling to him. Max then learned that Loki hadn't even tried to contact the man outside their teaching environment, and she helped him find Ludwick's office hours and location after dinner that night. She promised it would be a better way to get some one-on-one time with him, and Loki copied down the information and stuck it up on the fridge at her suggestion. It was Friday night, so he would have to wait until the following Monday in order to see the man again, or the following Tuesday to go to his office hours in the morning.

The suggestion seemed much appreciated, and it put him in a better mood to the point where he offered to wash the dishes, which he never did. Normally, they stuffed everything into the dishwasher like normal people, but the machine was on the fritz, and as they waited for Irma to replace it, they had to wash everything by hand. _Shockingly_, Loki preferred to dry, and he never really did it well; the amount of times she had harassed him for putting partially wet dishes back in the cupboards was staggering. He seemed to dislike the idea of washing dishes in water that was dirty from the previous dish, and no matter how many times she called him a princess, she couldn't get him to do the washing. However, since he was in such a good mood at the prospect of going to a professor's office hours, he did it without her asking.

"So you know what might be fun?" Max asked as he let the water out of the sink. His eyebrows shot up, indicating his acknowledgement of the question, "If we went to Pinkberry for dessert."

"If we went _where_?" Loki demanded, eyebrows now knitting together now as he eyed her skeptically. She smirked.

"Oh, you're in for a good time tonight."

Who hasn't ever had frozen yogurt at Pinkberry? Fuck. It was like… an orgasm in your mouth. Two orgasms.

"Max, I don't really have time for trivial-"

"Look, we both know we're going to lounge in front of the TV for an hour, and then do some work, and then go to bed," Max insisted, wincing internally at how incredibly boring their lives were. She hopped up on the kitchen island, legs swinging in alternating circles, "So, let's go get some frozen yogurt so we can at least pretend we did something this weekend… You get to put whatever you want in it, and it's kind of awesome. So… Please?"

"Frozen… yogurt?" he repeated, recognition passing across his face; Max knew she had him.

"Yeah, it's like those little yogurt cups you slurp all the time, but frozen like ice cream," she explained. Clearly they lacked frozen yogurt shops in England. "You can put in fruits or chocolate or… pretzels! You'll be an addict after one bite, I promise."

"_Fine_," he sighed, throwing up his hands in defeat. "You always seem to promise me a good time, and we both end up suffering for it."

"Oh, ye of little faith," she tutted as she slid off the counter. "This won't involve us getting wasted off our faces, or drugged… Really, it'll be good sober fun with a delicious dessert. You'll love it."

He remained where he was, planted between the island and the nearby counters, and she was forced to squish between him and the counter to get around him.

Damn it, face – be cool!

She had a feeling he had picked up on some of the blushing and awkward stammering whenever she felt nervous around him; if he had, A) that was mortifying, and B) it had given him leeway to try to make her uncomfortable whenever he felt like it. Sliding between his body and the counter behind her? Yup, made her blush a little. She had her crush under control, and it continued to hover at the same spot as time went on, which was both good and bad: good because it meant she wasn't even more of an awkward idiot because it wasn't getting worse, and bad because it wasn't going away, which meant the awkward in her head lingered. She really needed to shake it off, because even if he was aware of her crush, he hadn't done anything to reciprocate the feelings, so it wasn't worth pursuing.

"So, I'm going to change out of sweats, and then we can go," Max told him as she sauntered back toward her room, her face back to a normal colour once out of the kitchen.

"Oh, but you look so classy like that," she heard Loki drone.

"Fuck you."

She heard a snort from the living room in response. Max rolled her eyes, "Oh, and PS… Shorts are going to suck tonight, so I suggest you dress for fall."

There was a long pause until she finally heard his bedroom door shut; seriously, he couldn't wear shorts forever. The weather wasn't awful, but it was cooler at night, and he was going to whine if he didn't put something warmer on. Max decided she could keep her grey school sweater on because it didn't smell like it needed a wash, and there were no signs of their pasta dinner on it. However, she shimmied out of her track pants and into a pair of straight cut jeans. She then switched to a thinner pair of socks so that she could wear her new fall boots, and then took her hair out of its slightly messy bun.

She studied herself quickly in the reflection of her laptop screen, and decided this was good enough. No need to get dressed up for Pinkberry, after all – even if she was attending it with a guy she was into.

Once she was back in the hall, she saw that Loki had migrated into the bathroom, and at that very moment the doorbell rang. Frowning, she glanced at her wristwatch as she approached; who would be dropping by at seven o'clock on a Friday night? She jogged a little when the doorbell rang again, and she pulled it open without even looking through the peephole.

"Hi!"

Max's eyes widened at her friend Marcy, and then the realization of what she had promised for the weekend came crashing down on her. Her smile was friendly enough, but Max felt the fear rise in her eyes as she stared at the large animal cage with a towel thrown over it in her arms. The short girl barely seemed to be able to see over it as she surged into the apartment.

"Thanks so much for doing this!"

"Oh, yeah, no problem," Max managed.

For some stupid reason, she had volunteered to look after Marcy's bird while she went home for the weekend to see her folks. Max hadn't ever seen the creature before, but she imagined it to be quite small and cute, maybe it would bring some sort of Disney-esque fantasy into the apartment. She had completely forgotten about the promise she made earlier in the week, and wasn't really in the mood anymore to look after someone's pet.

"So," Marcy started, flicking a red curl out of her face as she dragged the towel off. Max tried to hold back her look of horror as she eyed a massive green and blue parrot inside the cage, feathers fluffed; it screeched noisily all of a sudden, and she flinched. "He'll need to be fed twice a day, and you'll need to clean his cage once too."

"Can't wait," she forced out, wishing Marcy's normal contagious enthusiasm would catch. "When are you back?"

"Sunday night," she explained, "but the drive always takes a lot out of me… Do you mind if I pick him up on Monday?"

"Nope," Max replied. "No, that's fine. We'll… We'll take good care of him."

"_Her_," Marcy corrected somewhat snootily. As if that made a difference. Max held up her hands.

"Sorry, _her_," she remarked. "She's in good hands."

"Sorry I can't stay to chat," Marcy insisted as she reached through the bars to poke at the parrot. It hobbled down its little perch out of her reach, preferring to groom itself instead. "I've got to get going if I want to make it home by midnight."

"No, that's fine," Max told her as she walked her to the door. "Have fun… Say hi to everyone for me."

"Will do! Thanks again!"

Max kept the smile on her lips for as long as the door was open, and then felt it fall as soon as she turned back to the bird. She wasn't really all that fond of animals; dogs were about the only thing she could tolerate, and she was instantly repelled by anything smaller than a cat. Anything with wings didn't really sit all that well in her books either, but Marcy had been so distraught about leaving her bird with a stranger that Max felt she ought to step in – stupid, stupid Max.

Well, at least this thing was in a cage, even if it did seem too small for the size bird that was in it. She wrinkled her nose as she took a few steps closer, and the creature seemed to eye her just as apprehensively from where it sat. She sat. Whatever. Birds don't need a gender.

She pursed her lips as she stared at it, and then a devilish idea came to mind. As quietly as she could, she lifted the cage and held it in front of her, and then darted down the hallway to the bathroom. She paused in front of the bathroom, which was currently still occupied, and then knocked.

"What?"

"Can we hurry this along?" Max inquired. "I want to get there before it gets busy."

"Who was at the door?"

"Hurry up," she snapped, ignoring his question.

She grinned when she heard Loki grumble something irritably inside, and moments later he wrenched the door open noisily enough to frighten the parrot. The creature squawked, flapping its large wings and shrieking at him. In turn, Loki actually jumped back into the bathroom, eyes wide only for a moment, and then glared at her.

"Do you _seriously_ want to start a war of tricks on me?" he demanded as she lowered the cage, a triumphant grin on her lips. "I can assure you that I'm much better at it than you ever will be… Also… what is… this?"

"This is my friend Marcy's bird," Max explained, still rather pleased with herself. "For some stupid reason I said I'd look after her for the weekend."

"Oh, wonderful," Loki mused, wrinkling his nose as he moved around her and the cage, his back to the wall. "I assume its staying in your room?"

"Fuck that," Max snorted. "We'll leave it on the island… and… deal with it later."

"Agreed," Loki said with a nod, still eyeing the bird warily. It only then occurred to her that she should have asked him whether he was allergic to feathers, or if he'd be okay with having an extra roommate for the weekend, but it was pretty clear those thoughts hadn't even crossed his mind yet.

After depositing the bird on the kitchen island – and covering it with a towel under Loki's advisement – they grabbed their keys, wallets, and shoes, and then started the walk downtown. However, it seemed a little windier than normal, and she squinted, less than thrilled to walk the twenty minute march in a breeze that might pick her up.

"Well, guess it's back inside for us-"

"Nope, I have a car," Max snapped, grabbing hold of his sweater and dragging him toward the parking lot.

She didn't ever really drive her car unless absolutely necessary; gas was expensive, parking on campus was expensive, and she felt fat driving downtown when it was a short walk even in the worst of weather. However, tonight was a night worthy of a car ride. It was a fairly boring car: midsized dark blue sedan with dark grey seats and a trunk that liked to stick. It was her brother's first car, and it made its way down to her once he moved on to bigger and better things.

They clambered into the two front seats, and Max quickly ignited the engine, pleased that the car was a little warmer than the outside air. It was just nippy enough to make her wish she had thrown a light jacket over her sweater, and she was about to ask Loki if he felt the same when she noticed him studying the dashboard a little too intensely.

"Don't have cars in England?" she droned, arching an eyebrow at him as she backed out of the parking space.

"You're really in top form tonight," Loki praised as he rolled his eyes, buckling in at her insistence and settling back into the worn seat. "No, I was curious to see how it started…"

"I know this is a longshot, but do you have your license?" she asked, despite knowing the answer already.

"No."

Shocking.

"Well, I can teach you how to drive if you ever want to go for the test," she offered, glaring as a car slowed down and turned without first giving her the courtesy of a signal. "I mean, it's pretty easy once you get the hang of it."

He was silent for a moment, and then nodded, "You know, I think I'd like that. It can't be that difficult."

"Yeah, if I can do it, you can do it," Max chuckled as she spotted the glowing sign that signalled their impending arrival in heaven. "There's Pinkberry!"

"What an abhorred name," Loki mused, wrinkling his nose at the small restaurant as they pulled into the parking lot next to it.

"It'll grow on you," she insisted, ripping her keys from the ignition and turning to face him. "Try to contain just how delicious the yogurt is… They can spot first timers a mile away."

"I'll try to withhold my glee," he sneered. A wry smile formed on his lips when she cocked her head to the side, and she couldn't help but grin back; that damn smile was so infectious.

Arms wrapped around themselves, they braved the wind through the busy parking lot and Max dragged open the clear door, gesturing inside happily. Loki seemed mildly put off with all the white furniture with pink accents, but once she introduced him to the concept of picking his own yogurt flavour with whatever topping his heart desired, he seemed to warm to the place. Ten minutes later, and they were both standing at the cash register, dessert in hand, and Loki was already digging into it.

"I think this is the most delicious form of yogurt I've had thus far," he commented, his mouth still a little full.

"Well, you did get almost every topping," she mused, judging him only just a little for mixing kiwi and pretzels on one yogurt, "but didn't I tell you that you'd _love_ it?"

"All right, all right," he growled. "This seems to be the one thing you've been correct about thus far."

"Whatever," she laughed, handing over a ten dollar bill to cover her creation.

For the most part, Max was just happy that Loki seemed happy. After his outburst a few weeks ago, she wondered if he might take some sort of downward spiral, or if he had run into trouble somewhere in town. He seemed to bounce back pretty quickly, even apologizing to her the same night for shouting. He still didn't seem ready to talk about what had happened, and she wasn't going to push him.

Once she had her glorious concoction paid for, she lingered by the register to wait for Loki. She dove in pretty quickly, wallowing in the strawberry-vanilla blend that she had perfected; it was pretty simple, yes, but delicious.

"I'm sorry, but your card has been declined."

Max glanced back at Loki, and he simply stared at the teenager behind the register, a frown on his lips, "What?"

"Is there money on your card?" the girl asked, blonde eyebrows shooting up.

"Here, I've got it," Max offered, preferring to spare Loki a scene. She gave the girl the remainder of her change from her own purchase, and Loki followed her toward a table in a bit of a stupor.

"Why did that happen?" he demanded as they settled into a white plastic booth.

"Sometimes it's because there is a problem with the bank," Max told him with a shrug, "but… you do have money on it, right?"

"Well, I suspect the bank will have added more," he mused, scooping a spoonful of frozen yogurt in his mouth. "This is… exquisite."

"Wait, why would the bank add more?" Max asked curiously, "Are you on a plan that does that?"

"I was bound to have spent what they gave me in August by now," Loki continued as he picked out a chocolate-coated pretzel. "They'll just add more, won't they?"

She wasn't sure whether she ought to laugh or weep.

"Loki…" she started, placing her hand on his so that he would take this seriously. "The bank doesn't just add money to your credit card. You have to pay them back for the loan they gave you… which is the money on that card. Otherwise you get interest and you owe _more_… Please, please tell me you've been putting money back on the card."

_Please_.

He pursed his lips, and then continued to eat his frozen yogurt in silence. Max sighed noisily, and then ran her hands through her hair, "Dude, they must have told you this when you got the card!"

"I have another bank account," he argued, "but I don't… recall which bank it was with. I have money, but it's somewhere else."

"So you got the credit card to tide you over?" Max asked, her frozen yogurt almost completely forgotten, "Do you have enough for next month's rent? Irma usually collects on the first."

"Well, apparently I don't."

"Loki," she sighed, shaking her head. "You… You need to be more responsible with your money."

He continued to eat, his eyebrows furrowed. Max decided he didn't need someone to lecture him – he needed a friend. So, she threw her shoulders back, and nodded, "We'll figure something out… We'll try to find the rest of your money, and maybe you could get a job to pay back the bank. It'll be okay."

His green eyes darted up to hers, and he smirked, "You have remarkable optimism."

"Well, one of us should," Max muttered, returning to her frozen yogurt, hoping that it hadn't melted too much during the conversation.

Still delicious.

"How's all those toppings working out for you?" Max asked, grinning a little as he picked through selectively. "Not regretting the kiwi, are we?"

"No, no, this is just right," he insisted, his previous hostility dropped.

Max readjusted her legs under the table, and then hastily brought them back when she brushed against his, "Sorry."

He smirked a little, and then shrugged as he chewed. However, before she could spit out some other slightly nervous comment after rubbing up against his leg, they were interrupted by a fairly bubbling girl popping into their booth.

"I _knew_ that was you," Erica beamed, laughing just enough to make her chest bounce in her v-neck sweater. "How _are_ you? I haven't seen you since Ben's!"

"Erica, hey," Max greeted. She really wasn't sure why the woman thought they were close enough friends for her to sidle into her booth and squish up next to her. However, when she saw the look that Erica was giving Loki, it was pretty obvious why she had come over.

"I'm Erica," she greeted, extending her hand for Loki to shake. He glanced at Max quickly, and then forced a smile. "Max and I are such good friends, but she still hasn't introduced me to you. Loki, wasn't it?"

"What a good memory," Max droned, her eyes narrowing when she saw Loki's eyes drift down toward Erica's chest for just a moment.

"Yes, nice to meet you," Loki replied smoothly. "Always wonderful to meet Max's friends."

She smirked at the sarcasm, but Erica seemed to miss it completely. She threw her chocolate brown hair over her shoulder, "Well, my friends and I spotted you two coming in, but it took me a second to recognize Max with her hair brushed."

Wow. Max choked on a strawberry, coughing a little as she glared at the woman, who continued to hold eye contact with Loki.

"We're having a little get-together at my place tomorrow," Erica purred, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table to highlight a little cleavage. "I'd love to get to know more about you… Maybe you and Max can swing by? I'm in love with the British culture… maybe you could give me a little lesson."

"About what exactly?" Loki inquired, eyebrows rising as the girl blushed. Max rolled her eyes.

"Why don't we discuss it then?" Erica suggested. She nudged Max once more, "See you tomorrow? It's the same place as always."

"Yeah, maybe," Max replied with a smile.

"Nice to have finally met you," Erica insisted, seemingly demure as she flitted off from the table.

That had to have been _the_ most overt display of sexual attraction she had ever seen in her life. Were they in high school still?

"We're not going to that," she muttered softly, and she heard Loki snort in response.

"Does it look like I want to go to _that_?" he asked, shaking his head. "Honestly, I'm surprised she didn't…"

Max looked up at him, and then chuckled, "Didn't what?"

"Never mind."

"Oh my god," she laughed. "You were about to make a sex joke!"

"No, no, I wasn't."

"You were!" she argued, thrilled that he was finally losing some of the uptightness that seemed to come with being a Brit. "Say it!"

"No, it's fine." He took another spoonful of yogurt, and then made a face, retrieving something from his mouth, "What the hell is that?"

Max leaned closer, wrinkling her nose a little, "Looks like pineapple."

"That's disgusting."

"Well, you live and learn."

"Right, let's get out of here," he said finally. "I'll finish in the car… All this white is going to make my eyes bleed."

Max grinned and quickly finished off the remainder of her small frozen yogurt. They passed Erica and her table of girlfriends on the way out, and she waved farewell with her pinky when Max glanced back in her direction.

The wind was just as horrible when they stepped back outside, and Max made a beeline for the car.

"Careful it doesn't take your yogurt," she laughed. A glance back over her shoulder showed her that she was alone, and Max frowned. Loki was still standing by the road, his back to her. Clearing her throat, she hurried back across the parking lot and nudged into him with her full body, breaking his attention sharply enough to make him look down.

"What's up?" she asked, following where his line of sight had been before and landing on a dark SUV with tinted windows parked across the street, "You know them?"

He looked back at the large car, and then shook his head, "No… Let's go, Max."

"Fine by me," she said, and then squealed a little when he steered her by the small of her back toward the car. "Okay, no need to run!"

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**So I'm not sure how many of you are new readers with me, but for those of you who aren't, this speech is old. I've been writing online stories since I was 14, and have royally ruined my wrists from poor posture, overuse, not taking breaks, etc. So, when there are long gaps in updates (not that a few days is a long gap, but yeah), it's because the body is weak and feeble and really sore, but the mind is willing. Feeling better today, and was able to type this one out. **

**I have never, ever gotten through ten chapters of a story in a month before. Here's to a muse that loves me and you! Let's keep the good times rolling!  
**

**I had all these notes to chat with you about, but they have just completely vanished from my mind. Ah well. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I love and appreciate all the support through feedback, reviews, adds to lists – the works. Thank you so much!**


	11. The Bold and the Feathered

There were actually a lot of perks to working at the campus bookstore, even if it was a little hectic during the year. Ever since she started, she got a discount on all of her textbooks, which by the end of her school career would save her hundreds of dollars. Max adored all the people – well, most of them – who worked with her, even the new ones who were stuck trying to figure their shit out on the sales floor. Her inner nerd adored being surrounded by books all day, even if they were business or anatomy textbooks, and last year she had been bumped to a key holder position, which meant she made two dollars more than minimum wage.

Not great, but at least she wasn't flipping burgers for a pittance.

She genuinely liked the bookstore, even if her manager was a bit of an uptight cow sometimes; the pay wasn't great, but working as a graduate student paid enough to keep it all in balance. The salary she earned from there no longer paid her rent, but rather covered wants and necessities, and her paycheque from the college itself funded her rent and school fees. There were downsides to it, obviously. People expected her to know every single thing about every course offered at the college when they came by with their book lists, and they certainly didn't care that she was already helping someone – they were the most _important_ person in the world at that moment. Being on her feet for hours on end sucked, but if she was put behind a register she had the chance to sit, and the shifts were short enough to keep her happy.

Since she had worked there for such a long time, and she was one of the oldest workers on staff, she had more responsibility than the rest of the sales associates. She helped with inventory, stock arrivals, merchandise placement, and even conducted a few interviews when her boss was sick during the hiring process last spring. Max felt comfortable there; it was her home away from home away from home. Therefore, when it came to asking her manager, Melissa, if Loki could get a job despite the fact they weren't hiring, she felt completely at ease doing it.

"He's British?" Melissa asked from behind her computer, arching a brown eyebrow at her before clacking away at something on the keyboard, "Can he work here?"

"He's on a student visa," Max assumed. "So… That means only certain hours, right?"

They were seated in her small office behind the cash registers. It was nearly ten-thirty on a Saturday night, the same Saturday night that Erica had ordered she and Loki attend her party so that he could _educate_ her on being a Brit.

Vomit. In and around her mouth… vomit.

Neither had been interested in going, and when Max left for work at about five that afternoon, Loki was napping after a jog on the trails. The weather had been lousy all day, but he seemed to jump on the opportunity to go jogging in the rain. Hey, who was she to judge? He'd done weirder shit than that since he moved in, and Max let him sleep when she left. After all, he had no phone for Erica to contact him, and she was fairly sure the woman had never been over to Max's place for anything. Therefore, he ought to be there when she got back, and not in the clutches of Erica.

A little dramatic? Maybe, but she couldn't help it. There was no way she was going to bring Loki to some party where a girl who was way prettier than her could hit on him all night. Nope – not happening.

Her shift hadn't been anything too stressful. The bookstore was only open until nine on Saturday nights, and they maybe had a grand total of six people come strolling through. It was only herself and two other girls working, plus Melissa, and they could start their closing routine early in order to leave sooner. A lot of it involved counting down cash floats, general cleaning of the store, and returning all merchandise to their proper locations. The other two sales associates blitzed out of there sometime around ten, and Max remained behind to help Melissa with inventory for a half an hour. Technically, her shift ended at ten-fifteen, but after she moved up a position in the retail hierarchy, she found her start and stop times were more like guidelines: definitely not set in stone.

"Does he have any experience pulling stock?" Melissa droned as she squinted at her ancient monitor, wrinkling her nose at something. "Does he have any experience at all? An undergrad who is _twenty-six_? What's he doing with his life?"

"It's not really my place to judge that," Max replied, frowning a little at the woman. "But he has worked before, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to work stock… He's not running it. We both know Patrick would just tell him where to put things and haul stuff off the truck. He's a really smooth talker… You could even have him on the floor in a pinch."

"All right, all right, stop trying to sell him to me," the older woman remarked dismissively. She glanced up from her computer and grinned, "He can come in on Tuesday night to give stock a try, but he's only getting minimum wage, and I won't hear anything else about it."

"Thank you," Max gushed, a smile stretching wide across her face. "If he fucks up, you can give me shit… but I think he's going to be a good asset to have on hand. We never have enough guys."

"You've made your sale, Max," Melissa chuckled. "Go home. It's a Saturday night… Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Yeah, with all my course work and a cup of coffee," she sighed as she slid off the small bookcase she usually sat on and waved farewell.

That was actually a lot easier than she expected it to be. Even though she had endured a few part-time jobs since she was fifteen, Max hadn't ever gotten someone else a job because she had influence with the manager. It actually felt kind of good to know she had a little bit of pull around here.

After grabbing her bag and throwing a raincoat over her college sweatshirt, she slipped into her bright green rubber boots in the locker room and darted out the backdoor. It was still pouring once she got outside, and with her hood stuck firmly over her head, she made a mad dash for the back parking lot. On a day like today, it was perfectly acceptable to drive her car to work; besides, parking was free on the weekend, so she might as well take advantage of it.

However, as she strolled across the parking lot, squinting through the rain, she spotted what appeared to be the same dark SUV Loki had been eyeing the previous night lurking around the handicap parking space near her sedan. It was noticeable enough, and almost no one in this town actually tinted their windows that dark, so it had to be the same one she had seen before. It put Loki in a bit of a quiet mood once they got home – not upset or angry, but simply quiet, and she wondered if there was any relation between the pair.

Well, she wasn't going to have some creep follow her or her roommate around, hiding behind dark windows and a big shiny car. So, even though it probably wasn't one of the smartest decisions of her life, she threw her purse in the car, stuffed a bottle of airplane-sized hairspray in her jacket pocket, and slammed the car door noisily. From there, she threw her shoulders back and stalked across the parking lot, marching right of to the driver's side of the SUV and tapping on the window. It was so tinted that she couldn't even see if there was anyone inside, but she waited and hoped for the best anyway.

A moment or so later, the dark window rolled down, and the nearby light revealed two dark-haired men, one staring at her with his eyebrows up, and the other in the passenger's seat stopping mid-bite of a sugary donut, eyes wide as he stared at her. Max stared blankly back at both of them for a moment; the one in the driver's seat had dark hair, dark eyes, and a bit of facial hair – he looked oddly familiar, but she couldn't place him – and the other man was clean-shaven, a mat of curly hair on his head.

There were empty cups and crumbled bags of fast food scattered between them.

"Hi," the driver said briskly. She pursed her lips.

"Hi," Max managed after a second or so. "Are you following me?"

"No," the man replied, shaking his head a little. He then started to roll up the window, which forced Max to stand on her toes in order to continue seeing him.

"So I won't find you parked outside my apartment, or my job, or the yogurt shop that I like anymore?" she asked. The window paused, and he rolled it down a little.

"No."

"Cool," she managed, adrenaline suddenly pounding throughout her body. "Bye then."

"Bye."

Max continued to stare at the black window as it rolled up completely, and then awkwardly turned away to go back to her car. Did she actually just do that? Her actions went against every rule she had, ever code that a college girl should follow. What if there had been two psychopaths in the car waiting to make a drug deal and they shot her? Mind you, this _was_ Masonville, so that seemed a little farfetched. However, she still retrieved her phone and snapped a picture of their front bumper as she was leaving, hoping that she would be able to see the numbers of the plate through the rain. If she saw them again, it was straight to the police.

* * *

Tony watched the dark sedan roll out of the parking lot, and then rolled his eyes as Banner mumbled something incoherently at him.

"I really _love_ it when you talk with your mouth full."

His friend chewed for a few seconds, and then swallowed what appeared to be half of a donut in one go.

"I can't believe she actually came up to the car," Banner chuckled, reaching for a napkin and hastily wiping his fingers clean. "I mean, stupid, but… she's got a pair down there."

"No, I think just a whole lot of stupid," he said, noting which way the car turned as it sped down the small street.

"Did you get it?"

Tony reached out and pressed a small button on his elaborate dashboard, "Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir," the A.I. responded through the speakers. "We have voice recognition software running now, as well as a digital copy of her face. Shall I send them through to S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"No, we're going to play this one close to the chest for now," Tony insisted, Banner nodding in his peripherals. "As long as the Big Guy keeps his cool, we'll stick to surveillance."

"Big Guy?" Bruce chuckled, "I wasn't aware I was being watched too."

Tony shot him a look and then grinned, "Why do you think I keep you with me all the time?"

"My genius intellect."

"Glad you're enjoying second best," the billionaire laughed as he turned his key in the ignition. "Let's get back to civilization, shall we?"

Bruce had already retrieved his custom laptop, modified with Tony's specifications, and then sighed, "The Captain's back in New York…"

"Yeah, and Thor's in Arizona," Tony remarked.

"You already read my emails, didn't you?"

"I may have peeked while you were taking your time at that gas station bathroom-"

"There was a line!"

"I was thinking we could bring that gang in for a reunion," Tony suggested as they veered away from the academic buildings behind him. "Maybe see if Thor can explain why baby brother is back on Earth and at college…"

"Might want to ask that _after_ he's got some shawarma in him..."

* * *

Still a little rattled from her sudden spout of boldness, Max ended up sitting in her car for a couple of minutes when she arrived back at her apartment complex. What was she _thinking_? Ugh. Thankfully, there were no headlights in her mirror on the way home, and so far no black SUV in sight. So, when she was sure that she was alone, she hurried out of her car and sprinted back to her front door, wrinkling her nose as rain splattered across her face. She shoved her key in the door and quickly tumbled inside, quick to lock the door behind her.

After shedding her raincoat and kicking off her boots and slightly wet socks, she ran her hand through her hair to shake out a bit of the dampness. Loki, as usual, was watching the eleven o'clock news, feet up on the coffee table; Max scoffed noisily.

"_Boring_," she moaned as she sauntered toward the couch. "Let's switch to something less depressing."

"It just started," Loki argued, holding the remote hostage on his lap as she plunked down next to him. "Besides, you can watch people compete to be a chef but you can't stand keeping up to date on national news? Your priorities are a little weak, Max."

"Hey," she snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Don't judge Hell's Kitchen…" She trailed off, picking at her nails, "Ramsay would make me piss myself."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Max sighed, waving it off as she tucked her legs beneath her. "Oh! So, good news from work!"

"Hmm?"

He continued to stare at the screen, clearly more interested in what was happening on the news than what she had to say.

"I talked with my manager," she explained, poking his arm with her pinky in order to get his attention, "at work."

"Yes, I assumed she'd be at work," Loki remarked. "Carry on."

"Well, she said you could work stock Tuesday night," she continued, bouncing a little, and then frowning when he didn't share her excitement. "Why don't you look happy? You need to work…"

"I know, I know," Loki sighed, running his hands through his loose black hair. "I don't quite think I'm ready to start this soon. I have a lot of work to do elsewhere."

"Yeah, so does everyone," Max reasoned with a nod, "but we all also have to pay rent and tuition and everything else. I've got you covered this month, but what are you going to do next month? Go into debt because you can't be bothered to multitask right now?"

"All right, all right, tone it down a level," Loki groaned, rolling his eyes a little when he finally looked away from the TV, and she assumed it was only because the commercials were on. "I'll obviously do it, but you can't expect me to be ecstatic."

"No, but you could be a little more grateful," she argued. "I did just find you a job and you didn't even have to do anything…"

He turned toward her fully, and then grabbed her hand, holding it between both of his, and his eyes stared directly into hers.

"I owe you for so many things," Loki admitted. "Thank you."

The colour flushed to her face, just as she anticipated, and he grinned a little. Cocky asshole probably knew exactly what he was doing that that shit. She smirked in return, and then shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm sure you'll find a way to pay me back one day," she said coolly, and then tugged her hand back. Awkward. "Uhm, so I have a shift Tuesday night and we'll go together."

"My, my," Loki chuckled. "Living together, working together, classes together-"

"_Class_ together," she corrected, leaning her head against the back of the couch. "What? Getting sick of me already?"

"Quite the contrary, actually," he mused, his gaze returning to the TV once it signalled the news' return. "I'm shockingly accepting of you."

She frowned, "Thanks?"

"You're welcome," he laughed as he folded his arms across his chest.

Max rolled her eyes a little; he actually _was_ a little arrogant sometimes, which was a rare unattractive quality in him. Good – she needed to notice those types of things more often if she wanted her little crush to go away. Arrogant, occasionally randomly emotional, and had yet to offer to clean the bathroom – none of those things ought to be in the guy she's crushing on.

"Did you feed the bird today?" Loki inquired, and she quickly blinked after realizing she had been staring at him again. Hopefully he hadn't noticed with his eyes glued to the segment about a canine parade in the next town over.

"Oh, shit, no," Max grumbled, pushing herself off the couch and strolling back toward the island.

The bird cage had been in the same spot that she dumped it the night before, and the parrot had been relentless that morning about waking them up to be fed. Loki may not have put up much of a fight when she first brought that thing into the house, but the death glare he shot her when he came out of his room that morning said it all; the sooner it was out of here, the better.

The creature made a great deal of noise when she retrieved her small bag of birdseed, and she gingerly opened the cage door to pour it in the holder. However, two seconds after the bird spotted freedom, she went for it, shooting out beside Max's face. She screamed and ducked out of the way, birdseed flying everywhere as her hands quickly covered her head for protection. Loki gave a similar shout, and when she glanced back, she saw that the parrot had landed on top of the television.

"Quick, grab her!"

"_You_ grab her!" Loki snapped, peering out from the side of the couch, eyes narrowed, "_You_ let her out!"

"You're closer!"

"Not a strong enough argument, I'm afraid-"

Max shrieked again as the large bird took off and circled around the kitchen, finally taking up a spot on the top of the fridge, feathers completely fluffed.

"Okay, okay," Max reasoned as she stood up a little, still crouched down enough to hit the deck in case their feathered friend took flight again. "Let's try to get her back in together."

"Max," Loki moaned, "I'm watching the news…"

"Yeah, and it'll be on tomorrow morning and tomorrow night too," she snapped. "Can you just… help me, please?"

She heard him sigh irritably, and then finally turn the television off – apparently all attention now needed to go toward this bird.

"Right, why don't you grab a towel," he suggested, "and we'll see if we can… guide it back into its cage."

"Fuck," she groaned. "Why did I agree to watching this thing?"

"You can explain that to me later," Loki told her as he marched round the island and cautiously snatched up the two dish towels that were hanging in front of the oven. "Here."

She caught the one he tossed at her, and they both approached the fridge from opposite sides of the kitchen. He gestured for her to wait, and she watched as he stood on the tips of his toes. However, before either of them could do anything, the parrot shrieked and fluttered off the fridge, wings and feathers everywhere as Max cried and ducked down.

Things with wings sucked. They just… They sucked.

"Max, you really need to stop being so noisy," Loki ordered as he too ducked down to avoid being hit, "because you're upsetting the bird, and you're throwing me off!"

"Sorry, Steve Irwin," Max snapped, throwing her towel down dramatically and taking a seat on the floor, "didn't mean to spoil your concentration!"

He scoffed noisily, and Max flinched when the parrot landed on the island nearby. It was probably shitting _everywhere_. She glared at it, but quickly shrunk away against the cupboard behind her when it flapped its wings once more. Loki crouched down a little, like a feline stalking its prey, and Max watched him take a step forward in his socked feet, only to catch himself on her discarded towel and plummet down to the ground. Max giggled a little, and he managed to catch himself on the counter just in time, but the parrot was long gone into the bowels of their apartment, hopefully not shitting on her bed.

"Maybe," he sighed, sliding down to sit opposite of her, "it can just be a free-range bird until your friend comes to get it?"

"Not in my room," Max snorted.

Her eyes traveled along his long legs, bent at the knee, arms resting at his side. Ugh, stop it, Max. Much to her surprise, he seemed to be doing the same thing, and suddenly leaned down to examine her foot, which was currently slightly brushing his side.

"Is there a ring on your toe?"

"Oh, yeah," she said quickly, leaning forward to touch the small toe ring. "I usually wear them in the summer… I keep forgetting to take it off."

Lie. Her toes and feet got swollen from summer shoes and summer heat, and currently her little baby toe was too fat to get the ring off.

"You're a strange creature, did you know?"

She hugged her knees, nibbling at her lower lip as she glanced up at him. The fridge hummed softly beside them, but otherwise it felt like all her other senses had dulled. _Ugh_. The crush might actually have gotten worse within the last minute or so.

"I do what I can," Max finally managed, shrugging her shoulders in an attempt to appear nonchalant. He smiled mischievously, and then wrapped a hand around her ankle. She stilled, her eyes cast down to the spot of contact.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed noisily from the other side of the island, and Max almost jumped up to grab it. She answered without even bothering to check her caller I.D., and then immediately regretted it.

"_Why_ aren't you here?" Erica demanded through the hum of background music. "It's after eleven!"

"Oh, I just got home from work," she insisted a little breathlessly. Out of her peripherals, she spotted Loki rise and disappear down the hallway out of sight, and for a moment she was relieved. "Look, the weather's really shitty, and I'm tired, and Loki's… not really up for a party tonight."

"Bullshit," she slurred. "I live two blocks away from school… Get over here and have a great time-"

"What?" Max asked, rolling her eyes, "Oh, you're cutting out. What? Sorry, can't hear you! My phone battery's dying, Erica… Why don't you-"

And she hung up. Nope, not dealing with that tonight. Moments later, Loki returned with that fucking parrot resting on his hand. He ran a finger down its back, and it appeared Max wasn't the only female being in this apartment that enjoyed his attentions.

Max gripped her cell phone tightly as she watched him set the bird back in the cage, but instead of saying anything, she decided it was best to call it a night; go to bed before it gets any worse.

"I'm going to shower quickly," she said. "Do you need the bathroom?"

She heard the TV come back to life behind her, and she assumed that he was fine.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**So a lot of times with my stories I actually research things and try to make them super realistic. However, I can't even begin to understand the American Visa system for international students and where they can work and whatnot… so I'm going with rules that will allow me to make the story work. Deal with it –slides on sunglasses- .**

**So, Tony and Bruce made me ENDLESSLY HAPPY WITH THEIR BRO-LOVE in the movie. Actually, everyone did. I fucking loved the Avengers. There, I said it. Loved them all, not just our devilish villain, but I'm a bit nervous to actually attempt to write Tony Stark - hence the lack of detail and very small snippet of dialogue. It's a daunting task... gotta work up to that.  
**

**I'm going away on vacation at the end of this week. It's only to go home, which isn't a huge deal, but the updates may be a little slow for the next few weeks because of it. I'm going to try to keep up with my usual pace, but we'll see how that goes. **

**I also think Max is in a deep denial about her crush. Like. Hard denial. And Loki… Well, he'll get a chance to explain himself whenever he has his next POV chapter, which should be soon. Stick around, lovelies!**


	12. Stock Shock Syndrome

She gasped as his lips pressed slow, sensuous kisses along the small curve of her ankle, hands grasping at the bright purple bed sheets beneath her. Her eyes widened, breathing quickened, nipples hardened, and back arched under his affections. Max whimpered when he bit at the sensitive flesh on the underside of her calf, teeth grazing and tongue teasing spots that shouldn't be erotic, but for now every inch of her burned. She hissed his name, and for the first time it felt exotic on her tongue; a low chuckle was his only response. Her eyes sought out his, and the plain brown met striking green moments later, sparking a heat between her thighs that she had never felt before. Her hand slid down her slim frame, hoping to find some sort of relief on her own, but he slapped it away sharply.

Loki continued up her body, nibbling here and sucking there. Her breathing was shaky, uneven, and Max wouldn't have it any other way. They were in a dark room, nothing on the walls or floors, and yet they were splayed across her bed in such a raunchy fashion that they were bound to make the smutty books on her bookshelf jealous. For some reason, she was completely bare atop those bright purple sheets, yet he was fully clothed in black. She sighed happily as his fingers walked slowly up her inner thighs, but it was only at that moment that she noticed he had six digits on each hand.

Had he always had six fingers?

That was forgotten as the delicious possibilities of what he might be able to do with that extra finger ran through her mid, blurring her vision for a moment. Max twisted the sheets firmly when he used his tongue on her skin, so achingly close to the place that would give her optimal pleasure, the greatest satisfaction. She cried his name once more, this time as a plea, begging for the blissful torment to come to an end. He crawled up her body in response, his lithe figure covering hers. The weight felt so real, so firm, and she hastily went to the button on his pants, popping it open without a care in the world. He could have her; he could have every last piece of her over and over again.

Her hands slipped beneath the fabric, aching to bring him out so that she might be able to toy with _him _for a little while, make his heat as unbearable as hers. However, rather than a hard member pressing into her hands, she felt scales: hard scales, like the shell of a turtle. Max glanced down out of curiosity, her breathing still ragged, and she spied a tail similar to that of a fish – perhaps a mermaid – nestled between her legs.

"Your tail is so big," she purred, oozing sex in a way she never had before. Loki grinned in return.

"I'm glad you like it."

His teeth went to her neck as she stroked the scales below, his pants seeming to have vanished in the movement. She groaned as he sucked on a spot just below her ear, the heat emanating from her core so ghastly, so forceful that she simply couldn't bare it any longer. She wanted to scream, thrash about, behave irrationally.

At that moment, the door to her room opened; daylight streamed across the floor as her curatorial sciences professor strolled in. He moved straight to her desk, which was now in a room where there was once only a bed, and she watched as he settled down in front of her laptop.

"The Yankees won today," he told her, adjusting himself so his round gut could fit properly before her desk. Max nodded.

"I know."

Loki smiled at her, and this time she noticed each tooth was pointed at the end, carnivorous and raw. Some were even red. She grinned anyway, eager for him to finish what he had started. The forecast for today will be a balmy fifty degrees, unseasonable warm for this time of year. We have our traffic report on the way, followed by the latest in local sports… here on 94.2, easy listening in the morning.

Max felt her eyes fly open, realizing that her radio alarm had pervaded the depth of her dreams. She groaned noisily and rolled over, slamming her hand down on the device to turn it off.

"What the _fuck,_ subconscious?" she demanded irritably, running her hands over her eyes before sighing loudly. It had all been a dream. It started off so wonderfully, enough to get her a little aroused currently, but it had finished so abruptly in such a fucked up way that Max didn't even want to think about it. If she ignored it for long enough, it was bound to weaken and fade, and by tonight she wouldn't even remember the sheer fuckery that just happened in her head.

She quickly sat up and glanced down at her bed sheets: dark grey, not bright purple. Where did her mind come up with this stuff? Some people say they don't dream at all, but that seems crazy and lucky at the same time; Max usually had unnecessarily vivid dreams that were never a good time, even if they started off fun. Did they mean anything? Were they predictions of her future? Unlikely.

Sighing once more, she pushed herself out of bed, threw a sweater on over her t-shirt, and then dragged her feet all the way to the bathroom. Even if it was after nine, which was later than she was normally up, Max felt tired today. Maybe all that dreaming had interfered with the good sleep she was normally exposed to. It was a Tuesday morning, which meant she had three of her four classes today, and it was a long slog of lectures ahead. Tonight would be Loki's first shift working in the stock room, and she definitely wasn't in the mood for her sales shift that night.

The bird, thank god, had disappeared yesterday morning. Loki seemed to have some sort of magic working on it, because it hadn't made a peep since he secured it back in its cage Saturday night. Sunday had been a work day for both of them, followed too quickly by Monday classes and a night shift for her, which meant she was in bed late with a tired brain. So far, there hadn't been any black SUVs lurking nearby, but she hadn't really left the apartment much aside from her visits to campus for class and work. She still had the blurry picture of the license plate on her phone, and she wasn't afraid to use it.

All in all, Max felt a little worn out that morning. She couldn't be bothered to shower, as her hair looked fine in the bun she had put it in last night, so she did a quick wash of her face before strolling back out toward the kitchen. As usual, Loki was glued to the television, two empty yoghurt cups on the coffee table and a bowl of her cereal in his hands.

"Morning," he greeted as she strolled by, and Max gave a weak grunt in return. It would take her a couple of seconds in order to not picture him with scales and red teeth. Gross.

She grabbed a banana from their shared fruit basket, and then began to peel it as she leaned on the kitchen island.

"I don't understand these," Loki insisted. Her eyes flickered up to the screen, and they were met with scantily clad Victoria Secret models dancing about through flowing curtains. "Are they selling whores?"

She snorted, choking a little on her mushy banana piece, and then quickly swallowed it down, "No!"

"Then what is the purpose of this message?" he asked, glancing over the couch at her, eyebrows up.

"Well, they're selling underwear," Max explained. "A little early in the morning for it, mind you, but… they look like that to show the product."

Loki pursed his lips, and then settled back into the couch, "I suppose I can see the logic."

"I'm sure they'll be glad their advertising scheme has paid off," she muttered.

With the banana finished, she began rummaging around the cupboards for a bowl, and then poured herself some cereal. That mooch needed to stop stealing all her food; he got all the marshmellow bits in her Lucky Charms, and that was totally uncalled for. She caught a flash of paper on the fridge as she set the milk back inside, and quickly read the office hours Loki had scribbled down for his hero.

"So," she started as she eased herself onto one of the stools by the island, "are you skipping class to go see your idol?"

"My idol?" Loki repeated, "Ludwick?"

"Yeah," she managed with a mouth full of soggy sugar bits.

"Yes, I'll be seeing him sometime today," he replied. "During his hours... He will be there, won't he?"

"I dunno," Max replied. "Sometimes they're there, and sometimes you get there and there's a note on the door telling you that they're out. It's kind of hit and miss with some profs. If he isn't there, just email him for an appointment."

He remained quiet as the news resumed, and Max rolled her eyes. His obsession with local and global events was actually kind of annoying, particularly when she wanted to watch TV late at night. The only way it seemed she would win that argument was if she wrestled the remote off of him, but even then that seemed like a fairly hopeless battle.

Once she finished up with breakfast, she sauntered back to her room and quickly dressed. She had about a half an hour to get ready and get to her first class of the day – curatorial sciences (awkward) – and she knew that if she dawdled in front of the TV with Loki she was never going to get out of there. So, she threw on a pair of loose jeans, a lime green sweater to match, along with socks and a necklace to give the outfit a little pizazz. After, she hastily brushed her teeth and applied a little bit of mascara, and then grabbed her backpack and made for the door.

"See you after class," she told Loki as she pulled on her worn fall books and a light jacket. "Don't be disappointed if he isn't the guy you thought he'd be."

"What?"

"Ludwick," she clarified. "I mean, I'm sure you've built him up in your head… but just… take your expectations down a peg. He works at St. Judith's after all…"

"That does not sound like school spirit, Max," Loki told her, pointing an accusatory finger at her from his spot on the couch. She flipped him off in return, which made him chuckle, and she darted out the door before he could see what that chuckle, the same chuckle from her dream, did to her face.

* * *

Loki always found himself endlessly amused by Max's growing affections for him. She might have thought she got away with it that morning, but he saw her face flush just as she darted out the door; what he would have given to know exactly what she was thinking.

He started to notice it about two weeks ago, and he wasn't about to let her get away with it. It was all just a bit of fun; Loki knew how to exploit a weakness when he saw one, and the fact that she blushed such a wonderful shade of crimson when he played it just right was endlessly satisfying. He wouldn't necessarily say that he was flattered by the attentions, but he was certainly more tolerant of them because they came from Max. He could stand Max; she was one of the few humans he had met thus far who he could spend any real time with and not want to pummel into the ground. She was witty in her own way, clearly intelligent based on her level of academia, and was pretty enough for such an ordinary creature. Obviously he had seen women more physically attractive, but she was growing on him.

Max and her almost blatant feelings for him were the least of his concerns. He continued to wake up each morning feeling weak and mortal; it enraged him to no end to be so plain, to lack any real ability to fight off an enemy. Didn't Odin realize what would happen should any of his _real_ enemies find him here? What would they do with him when they realized he had no real power, no chance of defending himself? The horrors that awaited him at the end of the universe, at the far reaches of space and time, were too terrible to imagine in his powerless state.

He had seen that the weaker of his enemies had sniffed him out recently; Loki knew that if he behaved himself, Fury and his band of worthless agents would keep to themselves. However, he also knew that Stark and the rest of that team, the Avengers, would surely take notice of his arrival; the mark he left on this planet when he fell into it was still being studied, and that was sure to catch the attention of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and Iron men alike. He would keep his temper in check, pretend as though he didn't know they were spying on him from behind their tinted windows and armoured vehicles.

What else could he do? This frame was too weak to physically attack them, and there were no weapons in this pathetic town to speak of. Loki needed to remain on course with his original plan – Ludwick would give him a way into space, and from there he would find a safe realm in which he could acquire real magic once again. Today was to be the first day of his plan, the first breath of its life.

He had been doing wonderful work in Ludwick's classes; he was always punctual, his assignments were stellar, and he was one of the few who actually spoke in class in order to facilitate some sort of discussion. If he put the same effort into all of the lessons he had been slotted into, he would have quickly become the best student in this wretched school. However, he thought it only gracious that he gave the rest of the young adults had a chance to shine; when it came to Ludwick's class, no one would be given that opportunity.

The man's office hours ranged from eleven in the morning until one in the afternoon, which coincided with his media and technology course. That two hour madness was the most pointless class of all of them; he spent the entire time sketching nonsense on his paper while his professor rambled on about writing styles and social networking. _None_ of it had any appeal to him; some students seemed really keen on it, while the rest clicked around on their laptops and watched videos. Today's agenda would consist of taking up a quiz the professor gave them last time, in which Loki circled random letters in a multiple-choice format and hoped for the best.

If he didn't need to get out of this place so terribly, if he wasn't in dire need of escaping this planet, Loki might have actually tried to learn something. He wasn't opposed to schooling in principle, but he might have tried harder if the consequences of this life weren't so calamitous. However, if he were to actually take up a legitimate study here on Earth, he would have gotten himself settled into one of the top schools in a top country – preferably in a place where women didn't live in track pants that had various degrees of tightness.

Once he finished up with his breakfast, which consisted of a bowl of Max's sugary mess which was only good for about a minute after the milk was poured, Loki quickly showered and dressed. He didn't need any of his books to charm a professor, and opted to leave his bag behind. Instead, he dressed neatly in a pair of fitted trousers and a dark green button-up shirt, preferring to look a little more professional than the rest of the miscreants that wandered around campus.

Dressed and ready to go, Loki was quick to slip into a pair of shoes and walk briskly to campus. He knew the way by now, having walked the path almost every single bloody day for a month. Ludwick's office was located in the same building as his classroom, and once he was inside Loki realized he actually could have walked here with his eyes shut. He navigated through people with ease; it certainly did not take long for him to figure out how to maneuver through speedy walkers and those who moved at the pace of an ancient being, lost in their private world of music and other nonsense.

Ludwick's office was on the third floor of the building, and it was the only one on campus of its height. He hadn't been up there yet, clearly, so it took him a little while to gather his bearings and find his way through the mixture of offices and pristine white laboratories. Number three-fifty-five. His eyes scanned the doors as he marched along, finally spotting the desired office. There wasn't a sign on the door as Max predicted, and Loki grinned when he spotted the dull older man seated at a desk.

Ludwick reminded him greatly of Eric Selvig: average height, not overweight but still a little round in the middle, balding only in one spot at the back of his head, and clear blue eyes that were beginning to look a little cloudy. He always spoke clearly in class, but he was also aware that Ludwick had a tendency to go off on slightly irrelevant topics, so he could fathom why some people found the lessons dull. He even found the lectures to be a little tedious, but he was incredibly practiced in feigning interest in things that were pointless.

He knocked soundly on the doorframe, smiling when Ludwick looked up.

"Hello," the older man said softly, greying eyebrows shooting up when he looked Loki over twice. "Can I do something for you?"

"Professor Ludwick," Loki greeted as he stepped into the small square room, glancing briefly. "How are you this morning?"

The man blinked, and then leaned back in his chair, "I'm fine. You're in my introductory class to biology, aren't you?"

"Yes, yes I am," he remarked with a nod, pleased that he had managed to make a memorable impression in only a few short weeks. "Do you have a few minutes to speak with me?"

For a moment he seemed as though the professor might turn him away. He glanced at his computer screen, then down to a notebook, and he sighed.

"Yes, I have some time," Ludwick said finally. He gestured down to the small chair in front of his desk, and Loki quickly took a seat, careful to appear the eager student in his body language: leaning forward, arms uncrossed, expression keen.

"Well, first just let me tell you what an honour it is to have the privilege to be taught by you," Loki began graciously. "I came here just for you."

"To study biology?" Ludwick asked, eyebrows shooting up. "There are better places around here that are strictly science focused-"

"Actually," Loki clarified, knitting his fingers together as though he were infinitely relaxed, "I'm more interested in your research with space and beyond, particularly where NASA is concerned."

"Oh really?" he asked, finally looking a little more alert in the conversation. "You know, few people are even aware that I have such a position…"

"That is unfortunate," Loki crooned, shaking his head at the sheer ignorance of others. "You were in the paper recently for your work."

"Ah, yes," Ludwick remarked as he suddenly appeared uncomfortable. "It was nothing… merely a consultation. I prefer to remain here to work on my other research."

"The paper said you were analyzing findings," Loki insisted. There was this niggling feeling in his head that this wasn't going the way he wanted it to go. "I think that's quite impressive."

"If you don't say so yourself," the older man commented without a hint of a smile. "Now, what can I do for you?"

Loki ground his back teeth together, but masked his irritation with the man's briskness.

"I'd like to know more about your work with the space program," he began. "Where you started, where you went, what sorts of research you do, where I might be able to go should I wish to pursue a career-"

"All of that can be found on my website," the professor remarked. "If you need help with class guidance, the counselors here would be more than able to help you choose courses that would fit that line of work."

Loki blinked back his frustration, and then leaned forward just a tad more, "I simply thought-"

"Look, I take it you're an undergrad, right?" Ludwick started, sighing noisily. Loki gave a stiff nod. "Right, so if you're in my intro course, you've got a long time to figure this stuff out. It's the first month of school… Enjoy that and then come back. I usually prefer to chat with my students near the end of the year when they have a better idea of what's going on."

Loki cocked his head to the side, staring at the man for a moment as an uncomfortable silence settled over the two. The professor nearly leapt for his desk phone when it buzzed, and he nodded toward the door after he answered it.

"I'm sorry I can't be more help," Ludwick insisted. "Let's talk again some other time."

"Oh, we most certainly will," Loki told him firmly, the mirth and eagerness gone from his eyes, "quite soon, Professor. Good day."

It took everything in him not to slam the office door noisily behind him. How could he be so quickly rebuffed by a man who professed to be an educator? Whatever the case may be, Loki wouldn't be so easily deterred. No, he would try again to engage the older human; perhaps if he could produce genuine appreciation for the man, Odin might believe the appreciation would stem to all humans. Hmm. A possibility.

He still had enough time to make it to his second class if he tried hard enough, but Loki was in no mood to be surrounded by ignorant morons today. Besides, he knew he had to work at Max's little bookstore tonight in order to produce some sort of funds for himself, so he needed time to prepare for that. Irritated, but not defeated, Loki stalked back through the campus and returned home just as the clouds started to thicken above him. Perhaps they were in for another storm.

What an infuriating thought.

* * *

"What do you mean he isn't working stock?"

Loki tried to mimic Max's confusion as she glared at the woman, Melissa, who was supposed to be her superior at the shop, but in all honesty, he couldn't care less. At this point, he'd be more than happy to go home having done nothing.

He had spent the better half of the afternoon grumbling about Ludwick's inability to be useful to any degree. Max returned close to five, and by then he had already followed the directions on the back of a box to produce a meal called Kraft Dinner. The woman appeared a little drained after her full day of classes, and because of it hardly seemed embarrassed when they sat next to each other on the couch to eat the meal from the same pot. He'd suggested it so they could keep their dishes clean, as the machine that automatically cleaned them was still broken, and he had sort of wanted to get a kick out of watching her squirm. However, something seemed slightly off with her, probably due to fatigue, and she ate most of her meal in silence in front of the television box.

From there, they piled into the car for the start of their shift at half passed six. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and Loki could barely see through the streams of water that plummeted down from the sky. Luckily for him, there was no lightning to be seen, which hopefully meant his stepbrother was long gone from Masonville. Max, however, seemed less enthusiastic about the storm, and complained the entire way to campus about driving in terrible weather. She still kept up her offer to teach him how to pilot the car, and he figured it would be a useful skill to have. If he could manage different sorts of alien crafts, he was fairly sure he should be able to drive one of these slow vehicles.

It was a mad dash to get into the building through a door Loki had never seen before, and Max gave him a code to punch in so that he could always have access. It felt quite secretive, quite elite, until he found himself in the locker room surrounded by smelly wet shoes and school bags. He quickly realized this job might be even less glamorous than Max had led him to believe.

Once they had changed out of their wet clothes into something a little more presentable, Max led Loki through the back and into the bookstore, which he was currently only slightly familiar with having purchased very few textbooks. However, he was assured he wouldn't need to know much, as his night would consist of unloading trucks and counting things – apparently.

Well, apparently not.

"Dirk quit this morning," the manager explained tightly, her arms folded across her chest as she looked Loki up and down. "Look, Pat can handle stock, and I'm sure your… friend-"

"Loki," he interjected with a charming smile. The woman's cold front softened a little.

"_Loki_," she continued, "will be able to work the floor for a night. We're now short a salesperson and we could really use the extra manpower on a Tuesday. What do you think?"

"But he doesn't know anything," Max argued, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "I mean, it's not hard, but-"

"I'm more than capable of following instructions," Loki argued. "So long as they are clear… I would be more than happy to help where I'm needed."

Melissa's chest swelled with what he assumed was pride, and she shot his roommate a slightly smug look. Max arched an eyebrow at him, and then threw her hands up, "Fine, whatever. I'm going to go sign on to my till… I'll be around to help."

The pair watched her move toward the cash registers, and Loki found he actually had to crane his head down to meet Melissa's eye level.

"She seems like she's in a mood."

"It's the weather," Loki told her as he clasped his hands together behind his back. "Now, what is it you'd like me to do?"

"First we'll get your nametag made."

He followed the smaller woman toward the Information Desk near the back of the store, and Loki leaned against the counter as she clacked away at something behind the desk. He wasn't sure why he had been so cheery, but perhaps a small part of him knew he really needed to make the extra money, and the chance of him getting a job somewhere else with this small amount of effort seemed a little unlikely.

"Okay, here you go."

Loki looked down at the small nametag she had handed him, and frowned when he read what was printed on it.

Locky.

_Locky_? Was she an idiot?

He quickly realized it wasn't worth the effort to correct her, as he planned to be speeding away from this town with his powers intact (or soon-to-be) within the next month or two; it was easier to just go with it. He pinned the tag to his shirt, wincing when he nearly stuck himself with the end of the needle, and then followed Melissa toward the aisles of books.

"Now, Tuesdays mean we give higher discounts for our students, but I'm sure you know that."

He paused, eyeing more students milling around than he had ever actually seen in here, "Right."

"So we're a little busier."

"Right."

She came to an abrupt stop and then gestured to the six aisles on either side of her, labeled from Anatomy down to Music and everything between.

"You're going to man these aisles," she explained. "You don't have to make sales or promote anything… You just need to keep your aisles neat and help people find things. Get used to the way things are stacked. There's a broom in the storage cupboard by the locker room if you need to sweep."

"Right."

"Think you can handle all that?" the woman chuckled, suddenly standing a little too close for comfort. "You're finished at nine, and then once your area is neat, you can leave."

"Right."

"My, you Brits have an extensive vocabulary," she mused, patting his arm. "Give a shout if you need help."

He watched her walk off in the direction of the cash registers, and then he hastily looked away when she glanced over his shoulders. Right. Look busy for the next… He glanced down at his new wristwatch, and then sighed: just under two hours to go. How was he supposed to pretend for that long?

He first strolled up and down all the book aisles. They were labeled according to discipline, and then broken down into divisions by class. Some departments had an entire aisle strictly dedicated to all their classes, and Loki was surprised that there were still books for sale.

Student milled about, some pausing to study a textbook, others simply grabbing what they needed and hurrying off. He could do this. He could stand around at a store for three hours a few times a week in order to make some money.

"Hi."

Loki winced; he didn't want to actually have to _do_ anything here in order to make his money. However, it seemed that people wouldn't even give him that much grace. He turned back to find a very petite blond woman, several years younger than Max to be certain.

"I can't find anything," she laughed, flicking her hair out of her face and then producing a massive list for him. "I totally didn't realize we had to read the books, and _now_ we have exams coming up. Stupid, right?"

She laughed again, and Loki wrinkled his eyebrows as he read her mammoth list.

"Locky?" she asked, "That's a different name… Is it like… French or something?"

"No," Loki remarked, shaking his head at her. "Uh… Why don't we… start…"

She hadn't actually written any of the names for the classes down – only the course numbers, and Loki had absolutely no idea where he was supposed to find any of these.

"What program are you in?" he asked under the guise of making conversation.

"Oh, just first year," she replied, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she popped a loud bubble of something between her teeth. "So everything, you know?"

"Yes, well…" He cleared his throat, showing the list to her, "I don't know all of these off by heart. You'll need to tell me which classes they are actually for."

She frowned at him, "Isn't it your job to know?"

Loki felt his eye twitch, "No."

"Oh, uhm," she fumbled. "I kind of think it is-"

"Just tell me what the programs are and we'll go from there," Loki ordered tightly, shoving the list back in her hand.

"Okay, so… English…"

Loki marched her over to the proper aisle, and began retrieving books from the shelf as she read out the titles. By the end of the English section, she clearly had nowhere else to put anything, and she shot him a slightly pathetic book over the pile.

"Can you get me a cart?" she whined. Loki stared at her for a moment, and then turned away stiffly and marched back toward the section where he knew there were shopping carts. He grabbed a free one, and then shot Max an irritated look. However, she was busy dealing with a line of her own and didn't acknowledge him in the slightest. He also noticed she had a massive smile on her face – clearly fake, but quite big all the same. Was he supposed to pretend to be happy?

As he walked back to the English section, he noticed that the four other shop employees were also remarkably friendly to just about everyone in their general vicinity. No. That wasn't about to happen. When he found his little blonde customer, she dumped all of her books in the cart and then flicked her hair again.

"Okay, now we go to business!"

Loki rolled his eyes as she flounced off out of the aisle, and then glanced down at the cart. Did she expect him to push it? He nudged it out of the aisle and soon found her in the Business section, but the aisle was too busy for him to bring the cart down. Instead, he walked through another group of people and went to work on getting all the books off the higher shelves for her. He followed her through to the Biology, Calculus, and Spanish sections, despite the fact Spanish wasn't in his section. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she could have pushed her own damn cart, and when they were finished, she disappeared without so much as a thanks.

Miserable quim.

An hour followed in which Loki was tugged around to various aisles in his section by different individuals looking for something or another, and by the end of it he was ready to slam the next person's head into one of the metal shelves. Students were insanely messy on top of that, and he was constantly bringing books back to the places where they belonged, picking them off the floor, and closing ones that had been left open during a bit of light reading. Honestly, didn't people have the slightest respect for any sort of order?

The cleanliness seemed to be a common theme across the store, because whenever there was a quiet moment, he noticed the other employees cleaning or tidying something up. This might actually be more work than he anticipated.

"Hey, Locky!"

He turned back to face the new arrival, savagely slamming a book down on a shelf, and then glared when he saw Max grinning at him.

"_Love_ the nametag," she trilled as she approached him. "I'll change it later tonight."

"I didn't have the heart to tell her-"

"But you had the heart to tell that last guy you helped to shove a book up his ass if he didn't leave you alone?"

"I don't recall those being my exact words," Loki said, holding back a grin as she snorted.

"Well, remember that you're in customer service now," she carried on. "You have to be nice to people."

"Even stupid people?"

"_Especially_ stupid people," she giggled, leaning back against a shelf and folding her arms. "Look, Melissa wants you to grab a mop and mop up the front entrance… People are getting water everywhere, and if some idiot falls, we're responsible."

"That seems a little ridiculous."

"Welcome to retail," Max chuckled, grabbing the elbow of his dark shirt and tugging him along. "Come on, I'll show you where the mop is."

"Why can't you do this?"

"Because I'm not new," she told him with a look thrown over her shoulder. "For the next little while, anticipate doing everything gross until you aren't new anymore."

Loki ground his teeth together; he really ought to thank her for finding him this _fantastic_ waste of time. However, he held his tongue as they wandered back in the direction of the locker room, and Max pushed a heavy door open and flicked on a light.

"So," she said, pointing down at a bucket with a long handle coming out of it, "there's your mop. Front entrance… Make sure it's dry."

Loki sighed in sheer disbelief that he had been reduced to this. Was Max somehow involved in his actual punishment? Did she meet up with Odin regularly to tell him new ways she had found that would make Loki suffer without his powers?

However, just because he was without his godly gifts did not mean Loki did not have the upper-hand in their relationship. It only took a few hushed words to make her weak.

He leaned down, his lips near to his ear, and then murmured, "You always know how to make my evenings _stellar_, Max."

Her breathing hitched in her throat, and Loki grinned as she stepped away, running a hand through her hair.

"Yup, well, I'm going back to my till now," she said quickly. "Have fun mopping."

He watched her scuttle off, and for a moment felt quite pleased with himself. However, he soon came back to reality when his eyes met the mop and bucket in the foul-smelling closet. Right. If the rest of the people who worked here could handle such a simple task, he was bound to be able to do it too. After all, he had lived for hundreds of years, aging very slowly physically, and had endured countless hardships and pain; he ought to be more than capable of mopping up a wet floor.

With that attitude in mind, he grabbed that infernal bucket and mop, and then made his way to the front of the store. Just as Max had said, the front entrance was soaked. Someone had placed a sign up to indicate that the floor was wet, but otherwise it seemed no one else had done anything about it. He set the bucket down, and when he glanced over toward the cash registers he noticed that a few of the girls without customers were watching him. They quickly pretended to be doing something else when he sought out eye contact, and Loki rolled his eyes. He decided to keep his back to them, and commenced with the mopping.

This wasn't… terrible. It was easy to get done quickly, and once he had finished, Loki actually felt quite proud about how neat it looked. However, all his hard work was dashed only moments later when a herd of boys came barreling in.

"Are you guys still open?" one asked frantically, and Loki nodded as he glared down at their sopping wet feet. "Awesome!"

They then disappeared into the depths of the store toward a section that housed all of the program's study cheat sheets. His lip twitched irritably, and he set to work getting it dry for a _second _time, finishing only when the last of the customers filed out. Melissa appeared shortly after and told him to have a go at the back door as well – apparently the men doing stock pulls (whatever that might be) got water along the staff hallways too, and he soon found himself grumbling through almost twenty minutes of mopping.

When he resurfaced, he was promptly told to straighten out his section, as it was a disaster. Loki almost snapped at the portly woman; how was he supposed to keep all those aisles clean when she had him mopping somewhere else? If he had his full abilities intact, he could be in two places at once, but this current state of weakness made it a little difficult. However, a warning look cast by Max as she strolled by with a box in her hands made him keep his mouth shut, and he spent another fifteen minutes putting everything back in its proper spot. Melissa then preceded to hand him a _broom_ and ordered him to sweep the aisles down too.

Time seemed to crawl by as he did his closing duties, but when he had finally finished, Max still had another twenty minutes to go before she would be even close to done. Irritated with the sight of just about everything in the store, Loki decided to wait for her in the locker room. He had no desire to chat with his new colleagues, nor did he like the way Melissa eyed him from the Information Desk at the back; it was easiest to hide out and wait for Max.

By the time she resurfaced in the room, the majority of the staff had already filtered through. They had all cast him looks that ranged from slightly curious to anxious as they awkwardly gathered their things, and Loki tried not to pay them much attention. When Max appeared, he threw his hands up and rose to his feet.

"Finally," he droned as he pulled his jacket on. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

"So, you're hired if you want to keep working," Max told him as she kicked off her shoes and slid into her bright green rain boots. "Melissa liked you."

"I noticed."

"And she decided to pay you in cash today," she continued, producing a small envelope for him. "Thirty-three dollars and eighty-four cents… Congratulations, you're a minimum wage worker."

He grabbed the envelope and looked inside, displeased with the pathetic amount, "That's all?"

"I pushed you up to four hours instead of three, so it's more than you should be getting," Max insisted as she finished dressing. "You'll do your paperwork next week when you officially start, but I think you'll need to work quite a bit to get on top of your credit card stuff."

"Are there any jobs out there that will pay more than this?" he demanded as he shoved the envelope in his pocket.

"You could be an escort," she laughed, and then quickly shook her head. "No, look… as a non-American with little work experience, this is as good as it gets. You're just lucky our state has a higher minimum wage than most."

"Yes, I'm so very lucky," Loki ground out. "The luckiest person on this entire planet."

"All right, Captain Dramatic," she sighed, twisting her hair up into a bun and gesturing toward the door. "Want to get some frozen yoghurt? You seem a little pissy."

"As did you today."

"Well, maybe we could both do with some," she stated. A small grin tugged at the sides of her lips, a charming one that forced him to smile back suddenly, and they disappeared out into the rain together; his stomach rumbled happily at the thought of frozen yoghurt once more.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Longest chapter thus far! Accomplishment! The first bit was written on the plane ride home, which was super awkward with flight attendants lurking. See my dedication to you all?**

**Anyway. Someone said they were ready for a lemon in their review – there's my response! Haha. Sorry it's not a legit lemon, but that won't happen for a while. We have a lot of ground to cover first!**

**Another reviewer asked if these were based off experiences with my college life etc. – some of them will definitely be. Profs not being there despite the fact it's their office hours? Yup. Loading too much shit into a frozen yoghurt for the first time and it costing over $10? Yup. Being told off at work because one thing wasn't done, despite the fact your manager _just_ sent you to do something else? YUP. There's a mix of stuff that I did experience, stuff I've heard, and stuff that I haven't experienced. I do work in customer service part-time, so there may be the occasional rant that I think **_**anyone**_** who deals with the general public will understand pretty quickly.**

**Speaking of frozen yoghurt – I don't know how many of you are 9gaggers, but there was totally a post a few days after that chapter went up with people dressed as Loki and (I'm assuming) the Black Widow getting frozen yoghurt. The caption on the side was, "Get ALL the flavours!" I squealed. **

**I watched an interview today with our man Hiddles, and he was asked if Loki could ever go good, and he said yes really quickly. I sort of felt happily justified with my portrayal of Loki from that point on. Feeling good. I also figured he wouldn't be completely inept at working where he is... He isn't a total moron... just a little behind in the pop culture times.  
**

**As always, much love for all the responses! I'm on holidays right now, and my plan is to update my five current stories, with this being the first one. Soo, the next update might not be until next week. We'll see. Love, love, love!**


	13. TubTub

"Max?"

"Hmm?"

"There's a green line under my sentence again…"

"It means there's something wrong with the grammar."

"There isn't."

"Well… You tell that to Word then."

There was a long pause, followed by a grumble too low for anyone to actually make sense of, but she was fairly sure it contained a great deal of cursing as Loki resumed clacking away at her keyboard. He was definitely the slowest typist she had ever encountered, and it normally took him the better part of two hours to get through an assignment that should take forty minutes at the most. However, she had noticed some slight improvements, and hadn't commented on his lack of technological ability once. Instead, Max usually sat to the side to offer careful assistance whenever he seemed to get annoyed with something; computers were frustrating to people who had a good grasp on them, so she could empathize with his irritation if he seldom used one in the past.

It was the second week of October, and Masonville had settled nicely into autumn. All of the leaves had changed colours, the air was crisp and cool in the mornings and at night, and no one dared venture out in a pair of shorts anymore. School and work were still as hectic as ever, but Max had found a steady rhythm that made it easier for her to cope. The shifts at the bookstore eased off now that the rush was over, and she could actually work twice a week without any issues from her manager. Loki, on the other hand, was there almost every night in order to pay back his credit card debt, which the bank had already contacted him about twice. At first, she wondered if he simply didn't take it seriously, but when she realized he had no idea how the banking system even functioned, Max rolled up her sleeves to help him make budgets and schedules to balance his work and school life.

Their social life remained fairly stagnant. Within the last two weeks, Loki had been working pretty much every night aside from his designated days off. The shifts were short, and he was usually home sometime shortly after nine-thirty. However, once he was home, they still spent most of their time sprawled out around the living room/kitchen area, books everywhere, television on in the background, and a computer on Max's lap. They worked, studied, ate, and occasionally napped in that room, and it had become an extension of their bedrooms in quite a big way. It was also messy as fuck, but neither seemed to care enough to clean.

She invited Ben and his roommates over once last week for a party, but that party consisted of pizza, beer, and grad course work. Loki actually joined them when he got home from work, and Ben was kind enough to look over a first draft of a history essay to give him some pointers. For some reason, it made her infinitely happy to see her new roommate getting along with her friends; he had been pleasant enough, and even contributed to the conversation whenever it was applicable to him. She was also forever grateful that her friends were as open and accepting as she believed she was, otherwise there was a slim chance that some pop culturally retarded twenty-six year old _undergraduate_ would have been able to fit in otherwise.

It helped that almost every single one of her friends were fairly serious, studious graduate students who genuinely wanted to do well in their final years of post-secondary school. If she had friends who were obsessive about partying and socializing… Well, it would have made life more interesting, but they wouldn't have fit in with Loki, and Max definitely wouldn't have been able to keep her marks up. So far, she had kept trucking along with her marks. In her undergraduate years, she did exceptionally well in her first year (easy-peasy) and her fourth year (could write multiple choice exams with her eyes closed), but struggled with the years in-between. Now that she was working at a graduate level, she found that her marks had actually been pretty constant over the past two years. She needed to keep that pace steady and finish strong, otherwise she would be shit-out-of-luck when it came to plunging into the job market.

Currently, Max was on a break from studying and marking assignments. A rerun of _Toddlers and Tiaras_ blared from the television screen, much to Loki's discontentment, and Max used the hour to let her brain relax for a little while. No thinking was required to watch little children prance around in frilly dresses, so it was a good recess before she switched her thinker on again and dove right back into correcting assignments from last Monday. So far, they had all been pretty good, aside from a few that were clearly done an hour or so before class started.

It was Saturday, Loki's only full day off, which meant they were stuck with each other for the entire day. That definitely didn't bother her; she found her crush started to fluctuate as of late, and today it was stronger than usual – hence why she was wearing make-up on the weekend. He just seemed to be a little more playful lately, a little more flirtatious, and she was starting to wonder if he might be developing a little bit of puppy love too. Max definitely wasn't going to act on it, but it was hard to ignore when her crush was the first thing she saw in the morning and the last person she saw before she crawled into bed at night. For the sanity of their living relationship, she kept her flirting playful and safe, and vowed not to get totally piss drunk alone with him anytime in the near future.

Her phone vibrated noisily on the coffee table, and Max launched forward, pushing papers and notes aside to find it beneath the mess. When she finally did, she scrolled through her messages to find the most recent one, and then sighed. Ben and his roommates really wanted to do a trip to a pumpkin farm sometime in the near future. They had been doing it almost every year since they were in high school and could awkwardly navigate her dad's truck together, but had missed out on it last year due to terrible weather for most of October. Right now, it wasn't necessarily something she really wanted to do, but she knew that once she was in the car and driving toward that farm, the one with hay bales and corn mazes and freshly baked pies… Well, nothing else would matter then.

"Hey," she said suddenly, propping herself up on her knees and leaning over the back of the couch to study Loki, "do you think you'll be busy next Saturday?"

He glanced in her direction from his spot on the island, eyebrows up and suspicious, "Why?"

"Well, Ben and Garret and I normally go to this pumpkin patch to get pumpkins for Halloween," she explained quickly, a grin on her lips in order to make it seem more exciting than it sounded. "It's always such a fun day, and we carve the pumpkins that night… Do you think you'd want to come?"

"I… I've never actually seen a pumpkin before."

"That's okay," Max laughed, twirling her phone between her fingers. "It'll be something new for us to do… as long as the weather holds up. It'll be a lot of fun!"

"I know this speech by now," he mused as he returned his focus to the laptop. "I don't really think you're offering me much of a choice, are you?"

"I guess I shouldn't have bothered to ask," Max said absently as she fired a reply back to Ben. "You're coming to the pumpkin patch next Saturday."

"I'll be counting down the minutes."

Max rolled her eyes and then grabbed one of the smaller couch cushions, hurling it at him lightly enough to hit him, but not damage her laptop if she missed.

"Your maturity never ceases to amaze me, Max," Loki droned as he continued poking away at the keyboard. She stuck her tongue out at him, hoping his peripherals picked it up, and then plunked back down on the couch to return to her show.

Her phone buzzed again noisily, making her flinch for a second time, and she quickly read over Ben's reply. Ever since Loki had brought her friend's potential feelings to Max's attention, she began to notice little things that Ben did. He always held the door for her, offered to buy her food, hugged her at random times, and could get a little handsy when drunk – only when drunk, mind you. Before jumping to any sort of conclusion, Max decided to let those little things slide; it might have simply been the case of paying too much attention now and reading into things a little more than necessary. However, he had replied pretty fast with his text message, _and_ included a follow-up question with a smiley face.

Hmm. Ignore for now.

She tossed her phone back onto the coffee table, and then wrapped herself around a pillow as she sunk into the couch. There was only fifteen glorious minutes left of her trashy reality TV show before she had to focus again, and she didn't want to waste another moment of it.

Suddenly, she heard the familiar tone of her Skype alert emanating from her laptop, and Max leapt to her feet.

"I didn't do anything," Loki told her quickly, holding his hands away from the offending device. "What's happening?"

"I'm getting a phone call," she explained briskly, her heart racing when she saw her brother's name flash across the screen. "It's my brother… I just need to take this back for a half an hour."

"Right."

"Nothing will happen to your work, I promise!" she insisted as she scooped up the laptop and darted back to her room, kicking the door closed with her foot. Max flopped down on her bed, her laptop propped up on her legs, and she clicked on the blinking phone to answer the video call.

"Maximillian!" her brother shouted into the microphone, making her snort.

"Hey Nolan," she greeted happily. "Happy birthday, fatty!"

He grinned the same grin she did, and Max quickly took stock of his physical appearance. Her brother had been in the military since he got out of high school, but it wasn't until two years ago that he was actually sent overseas for duty. It was first in Afghanistan, followed shortly by Iraq, and he was currently on the last leg of his tour. If it all went according to plan, he would be home in the late spring, hopefully by the end of May.

Max adored her big brother. He had been her best friend for as long as she could remember, and that wasn't about to change in the foreseeable future. Two years her senior, Nolan had been her protector, advice-giver, and constant companion throughout her life. They never hit any sort of rough patch at puberty, which some siblings did, nor did they even seem to notice that they were opposite-sex siblings who shared just about every secret conceivable. She tailored her sense of humour toward his style. He taught her to drive. They always shopped for Christmas presents together – when he was around. They reigned supreme chicken fighters amongst their cousins, and they shared interests in books, TV shows, and music.

The only thing that they differed on was their outer shapes; Max was a beanpole for most of her youth, not developing much in the way of curves until she was older, and Nolan was called Tub-Tub until his senior year of high school. The military turned a lot of his baby fat into muscle, though he was still a fairly large, stocky sort of guy that looked like he could knock out a few teeth with one punch. The military had also shaved off his horrible long hair, something he considered the epitome of style back in the day.

They usually tried to chat online whenever he had an off day, and she was lucky if they got face time once or twice a month. Whenever she did have a chance to see him, she always liked to assess his physical appearance first; one time they chatted and he spent the entire time trying to hide a black eye that was fairly obvious, and that only made her stress about him more. People died over there. They just… died. Her parents weren't really all that happy he was in the army to begin with, and their anxieties tended to trickle down to Max if she ever thought too hard about it. Most of the time, she had to pretend it was a job like anything else, and that he would be home in one piece when his tour was finished.

"Couldn't help but notice that there weren't any presents waiting for me this morning," Nolan told her, arms folded over his sweat-marked t-shirt as he cocked his head. "So… a giant fuck you to you too."

"Oh, _drama_ queen," she purred, rolling her eyes at him and then reaching down beside her bed. She produced a small bag and held it up for him to see, "I have it, but I'm not spending another forty bucks to ship it to you. You can have it when you come home."

"Fine," he sighed. "I guess I'll just have to deal with mom's homemade sweater and cookies."

Max shook her head, "She sent you a sweater to wear in the desert?"

"It gets cold in the winter, don't hate," he insisted. He then produced a dark blue sweater from his lap and slipped it on over his head. Max leaned a little closer to the screen, scrutinizing the symbol on the front, and then snorted when she saw it was a pot of honey. He puffed out his chest, nose up, "It's because I'm her baby bear."

"I hate you so much."

He laughed as he ran his hands over his shaved buzz of hair, and then sighed, "Okay, so updates since we last talked."

"Uhm…" she trailed off, thinking back to their last call at the beginning of September. "The new roommate is working out really well."

"Holy shit!"

"I know, right?" she chuckled as she tucked a chunk of her hair behind her ear, "He's… really behind on like… technology and things, but we get along and spend most of our time together."

"Is he cute?"

Her cheeks flamed a little, which he hopefully couldn't see through her terrible webcam, and then narrowed her eyes at him, "Shut up."

"Oh, sounds like he is!" her brother snorted, leaning close and clicking around on his keyboard. "Give me his name… I'm going to creep his Facebook."

"He doesn't have Facebook."

"_Dad_ has Facebook."

"I know… Have you accepted him yet?"

"I have six friends on Facebook," he droned, shooting her a look. "Do you think I'm ever on there?"

"Well, considering you don't have timeline yet, I'm going to say no."

"Okay, get him on Facebook so I can check him out."

She rolled her eyes again, "He's just figured out Microsoft Word… I think Facebook might be a bit much."

"Where did you find this guy? Under a rock?"

"Sometimes I wonder," Max admitted with a shrug. "Otherwise nothing out of the ordinary for me… Mostly just work and being a TA… What about you?"

"Well," Nolan started, "we blew up a pile of garbage at the back of the camp today."

"_Fun_," Max laughed. "Glad our tax dollars are hard at work."

"And, you know, normal stuff too," he continued, shooting her a bit of a look. "Last week I went to a school with a bunch of guys to help deliver a shipment of school supplies some charity from back home put together. It was a lot of fun, actually."

"Good," Max said. "That sounds… safe."

"Yeah, it's been pretty quiet lately," Nolan informed her. "I mean, we got reports of some issues from our bases in the south, but I'm in the north… Nothing happens around me."

She had faith in their relationship to hope that he would tell her the truth about any sort of violence that went on in the area. However, the news was enough to worry her whenever Iraq came up, so it might have actually been a blessing if he censored some of the stuff that happened over there.

"So, you going home for Thanksgiving this year?" he asked as he popped some sort of a nut into his mouth, chewing noisily enough for her to wrinkle her nose.

"I dunno, probably," she remarked. "I think mom would be pissed if I missed it two years in a row."

"She'd probably show up at your apartment with a turkey under her arm."

"Oh my god, she totally would…"

They then fell into a comfortable conversation regarding Thanksgivings from their childhood, and his allotted half-hour of computer time flew by. Not every camp was the same, but Nolan's superiors gave him a grand total of one half hour every single day to go on the computer. Sometimes the connection was strong enough for him to Skype with her, and sometimes she knew he fished around on the internet for a pair of boobs to look at, or checked his email. That definitely didn't bother her; she'd have nothing to say if they spoke every single day.

"I miss you," she said suddenly, her eyes getting a little watery when she checked the time. "Stay in one piece, okay?"

"Shut up," Nolan told her. He then smiled that comforting smile, the one he had always used when he was sure everything was going to be just fine, "Love you."

"Yeah, I guess you're okay too," she sighed, brushing a small tear away. "Talk soon?"

"Sooner the better."

She blew a kiss at him and said farewell a few more times, and he was the first one to close the connection between their laptops.

She sat still for a little while after, simply staring at the screen, but then pushed her sadness aside. Life goes on, whether he's here or there. Pursing her lips, Max opened Loki's word document and took a quick scan of the answers, shaking her head at some of the odd sentence constructions. He hadn't even saved the document yet… Shaking her head, she quickly saved it as a file in her documents, lest he lose it in some accident, and then reworded a few noticeably awkward sentences to save him a few marks. She didn't correct the content of them, just the structure. He probably wouldn't even notice the corrections.

Sliding off her bed, she sauntered back out and placed the laptop on the island, poking at Loki's head as she took a seat next to him on the couch.

"So, who won?" she asked, referring back to the end of _Toddlers._

"Some little girl in a purple dress," Loki replied. "I wasn't really paying attention."

"You totally were," she chuckled, grabbing the remote from his hands and turning the TV off. "Go finish your assignment."

"So that was your brother?" he inquired, completely ignoring her hint to hurry up on her laptop.

"Yeah," Max replied, pushing herself down to the other end of the couch and then snatching a few papers off the pile on the coffee table. She also grabbed her red pen, ready to mark things up where necessary. "I told you he's in Iraq, right?"

"Yes, but why?"

Her eyebrows rose at him, "He's in the army."

"Right, right," he said quickly, "a soldier."

She was fairly sure she had told him this once before, but perhaps with all the new stuff he was doing lately it had slipped his mind.

"Do you miss him?"

Her eyes dipped down to the papers on her lap, and she nodded, fully aware that he was studying her intently from across the couch.

"That guy is my best friend," she said after a moment or so. "He's… my soul mate, really. I mean, not in a weird romantic way." Awkward. "But he's like the other half of me. We grew up together, my car was his… I wish he'd just come home, you know?"

"I can imagine, yes."

He stood up and returned to the kitchen island in silence, and Max shimmied down into the couch just enough to be a little too comfortable. Here's to not falling asleep on someone's assignment, huh?

"What is his name?"

She glanced up when Loki spoke again, and then cleared her throat, "Nolan."

"Interesting."

"He's named after my grandpa, actually," she explained, underlining a student's name and drawing a thick arrow to the other side of the page. Presentation mattered.

"And who were _you_ named after?"

She paused half-way through a comment, and then resisted the urge to tell him that it wasn't any of his business.

"My grandma."

"_Two_ women in your family are named Max?" Loki snorted. She heard the faint sound of his two fingers clacking away at the keyboard again. "That seems unfortunate."

"Hey," she chuckled weakly, shooting him a look over the couch. "My dad's name is Max… It's my middle name, actually."

"Really?" he asked, finally looking away from the laptop screen and smirking a little, "So what's your real name?"

"Nope, you're not getting that," Max laughed, forehead creasing as she read over a sentence that was a little confusing. "Now leave me alone… I can't understand what the fuck this kid was trying to say…"

"I feel odd calling you Max now-"

"Look," she snapped lightly, poking her head over the back of the couch to glare at him, "it's a stupid name, so I go by a better one."

His eyebrows shot up as if to question that, but she ignored him and sunk back down into the couch. Very few people now knew her actual name, and if she could help it, that's the way it was going to stay.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Short, I know, but I wasn't going to write this until later in the week and did for you todaaaay! Wooo! Today was supposed to be a day off to save my wrists, but that got pushed to tomorrow and this was written instead. **

**I had this horrible image of Loki using two fingers to slowly clack away at a keyboard… It entertained me the entire time I wrote this chapter. It takes a while for anyone to get good at typing, so I figured while he might be getting better with speaking like a human, his typing skills would take a little while to catch up. **

**We'll find out how Loki likes work in his next POV chapter... He doesn't really strike me as a huge complainer, particularly if Max is doing the same job as him. We all know on the inside he's dying.  
**

**You also have no clue how excited I am to send these guys to the pumpkin patch. The next chapter is going to be nerdishly exciting. **

**Much love for all the reviews! There is this group of you that give me feedback right away, and I can always count on it. Thank you! Thanks to everyone who is sticking with me and being supportive with adds to lists and everything else. I really appreciate it!**


	14. Pumpkin Patch: Part One

It may have made her a total four year old, but Max was ridiculously excited to go to the pumpkin patch. Yes, a week ago she had been stressing about school and work and her assignments, but as the day loomed closer, it soon became the only thought to occupy her mind. The obsession dated back to her childhood, during which she and Nolan would be taken to a farm by their dad, and they would spend the day climbing in forts made of hay, scouring the patch for the perfect pumpkin, and taking it home with an assortment of homemade baked goods to devour that night. It was such a fun time, and she reintroduced it to her friends in high school. It was always such a wonderful experience, and she spent the day laughing and frolicking about in weather that wasn't too cold, but had just enough of a crisp edge to it to be considered fall. Those feelings extended all the way to Halloween, which was by far her favourite holiday: dressing up and getting free candy from strangers? What was there not to like?

Now that they were in their twenties, there were only a select few who shared her slightly insane enthusiasm for pumpkins and any other festivity associated with Halloween, but the ones who did always managed to make it out to the patch.

Loki barely seemed the slightest bit fazed at the thought of going to pick a pumpkin, and Max assumed it was because he forgot over the course of his week. He had endured two tests in two days, and worked every single night at the bookstore. In short, he was exhausted, and actually fell asleep at the kitchen island last night on top of a textbook. When she reminded him about their impending adventure, he seemed less than thrilled with the idea, but she went out of her way to assure him it would be a relaxing _and_ fun, and that everyone needed a day off here and there or they would burn out. The second option seemed to be the one that persuaded him as he sat on the toilet brushing his teeth last night, Max lurking in the doorway with a bouncy energy that would have driven her insane if she had been in Loki's position.

Thankfully, she wasn't in his position. She had only worked one shift at the bookstore last week, which gave her ample time to get caught up on all of her assignments due in the next two weeks, and get a solid chunk of TA work done. There was still too much to do, obviously, but she put that completely out of her mind as she crawled into bed the night before, dreaming of pumpkin houses and mice instead of first year coursework.

When she woke up that morning, she nearly bounced out of bed. Loki had yet to rise, but they weren't leaving for the patch until the early afternoon, which meant he could sleep in for the first time all week. Max busied herself with breakfast making and email checking, the TV at a dull roar in the background. Pat had finally sent her over the information for the volunteer/internship position at the British museum that they had discussed briefly, but Max wasn't really in a state of mind to read too much into the details of the application. Instead, she flaked out on the couch and watched the reality reruns that she had missed during the week while she was doing assignments.

Loki surfaced about an hour later, shuffling along in his usual grey nightshirt and black boxer shorts. She cast him an appreciative sidelong glance as he passed, and then lost sight of him when he disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Morning," Max greeted as she listened to him fumble around for a bowl.

"Unfortunately."

"Oh, someone's a grumpy Gus today," she chuckled as she turned herself around and leaned against the back of the couch. "Wake up and get excited!"

"They aren't all going to be as shrill as you, are they?" Loki inquired tightly as he poured some milk in a bowl, "I don't think I can take a full day of this kind of energy."

"Hey," she snapped playfully. "Hurtful."

He scoffed a little, rolling his eyes, which made her smirk. Tiffany, Garret's girlfriend, was probably going to be as giddy as she was, but the boys were always much more restrained. While Ben and Garret had been her high school companions for trips to the pumpkin patch, Tiffany hadn't joined the ranks until about two years earlier when she began dating Ben's roommate. She was from Cincinnati, a little wider than average, and had boobs that would put even Erica's curvaceous features to shame. However, she was also one of the nicest people Max had the pleasure of knowing, and there was a little secret part of her that was smug to be the redhead's friend. Loki was bound to like her; he seemed to be a boob type of guy, anyway.

"You know what I was thinking?" Max asked as she continued to study her roommate. He glanced up at her as he scooped a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, and then raised his eyebrows curiously. She nibbled on her lower lip, and then tried to phrase her wording delicately, "I think… we need to cut your hair."

Loki frowned at her, and then ran a hand through his shoulder-length black hair, "Why?"

"Well, maybe this is stylish in… in England," Max said quickly, "but I think it's verging on the point of too long for Masonville. Maybe we could trim it a bit?"

"Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"Not in the slightest bit," Max replied honestly. She wasn't sure if he was aware of just how many girls checked him out whenever he was in public, but Melissa had reported an increase in undergraduate girls lurking around Loki's section at the bookstore. So, in short, she was never really embarrassed to be seen with him. "I just thought I'd let you know it's getting a bit long… I can cut it over the sink for free, if you want."

"I'll consider it," he told her as he drifted back toward his bedroom.

She watched him until he disappeared, and then settled back down in front of the TV, a little giddy from the interaction. Actually, the entire day was making her giddy, but comfortable chats with Loki were always things that put her in a good mood. Her crush levels were holding stable for now, but that meant they were holding stable at a high place. Max had gotten more used to him and his mannerisms now that they had been living together for over a month, but there was still the odd moment where he could make her blush with a comment or a look. She suspected her crush was the only reason she had offered to pay half of his rent for October. Loki had managed to make some money from working at the bookstore, and forked it over entirely toward rent, but that meant he was back to being broke.

He didn't seem to grasp how quickly money could be made and spent when you had a zillion things to pay for on your own. They had still been trying to track down his mystery bank account that supposedly housed enough funds to cover his rent for the following months, but that mission seemed a little fruitless. There were dozens of banks out there, and most of them weren't willing to simply hand out account information because she asked nicely, and Loki was a step above useless with no real information about account numbers and personal information. Max had a sinking suspicion one of his parents had made the account for him, which would explain why he had almost no idea how to access it.

The minutes rolled by quickly in front of the TV, and before she knew it, it was time for her to get out of her sweats and into something only marginally more presentable for her trip to the pumpkin patch. Max opted against washing her hair, as she assumed it would be a mess by the end of the day anyway, and instead had a quick rinse and added only a smidgen of make-up – crush still at critical levels, remember?

Once that was sorted out, Max darted back to her bedroom and picked her outfit for the day. She still wanted to look cute, considering she was spending the day with Loki doing something that wasn't school or work related, and opted with a pair of fitted jeans with holes in the knees. She stood in front of the mirror hanging in her closet for a bit, admiring the way they made her butt look better than it normally did, and then hastily chose a bright red top to match.

After lollygagging around on her computer for a little while, drifting listlessly between Facebook and various other pointless social media websites, Max glanced back at her door when she heard Loki's open. Much to her surprise, she could hear shoes walking carefully along the hardwood floor, and she was quickly on her feet. They weren't supposed to leave for another twenty minutes, and it wasn't like Loki to be this keen for something he had almost no interest in. So, she bounced over to her doorway and poked her head out to investigate.

"Hey," Max called, making Loki stop just before the kitchen area, "where are you going?"

"Nowhere."

'Nowhere' her ass… He was dressed in his usual jogging gear; right down to the old runners he bought second-hand downtown.

"Are you trying to sneak out and go jogging?" she demanded as she followed him out of her room, hands on her hips as her eyes narrowed at him, "We're leaving in fifteen minutes."

"I just…" he trailed off, and then made a dash for the door. She laughed loudly, but then realized he was serious when he grabbed his keys off the island as he darted by. Oh, hell no. Hell to the no.

Max tore off after him in her socks, moving quietly enough to catch him when he might have thought she had stayed inside. She caught him at the end of their small porch, and once she had her hands on his shoulders, she leapt up and onto his back, long legs curling around his waist.

"Max," he whined.

"You're going to miss the patch, and you said you'd go," she ground out firmly. "So you can jog with me on your back, or you can make this easier for both of us and go get ready for pumpkin time. It's your call…"

He sighed noisily, and then threw his hands up as he turned back toward the apartment, "I can't believe you're doing this to me."

"_You_ said you would come with me," Max argued as she clung to his back, which was incredibly solid beneath her. "What's your issue today?"

"Nothing… I suppose I feel a little tired after this week," Loki admitted once they were back inside. She slid off his back and shut the door behind them, and then folded her arms across her chest.

"Today will be a great distraction from everything," she insisted, and then pointed toward his bedroom. "Go put on something you feel comfortable in, and then we'll go pick everyone up."

He shot her a bit of a look over his shoulder as he trudged back toward his room, and she grinned happily in return. A little part of her hoped that she wasn't pushing him to do more than he wanted. After all, if she wasn't in the mood to do something social, she would have been highly annoyed that someone went out of their way to force her to participate. However, Loki really didn't have anything else other than school, work, and Max. At least Max could meet up with friends for lunch between classes, and had Pat to chat with whenever she was too bored; Loki opted to let his mind go to mush in front of the TV whenever he wasn't doing anything work or school related. He still didn't seem to want to make any actual friends in any of his classes, but she couldn't really blame him for that; everyone was at least seven or eight years younger, so finding the bonding elements might have been a challenge.

Max decided that she needed to really push him in order to get him out of his shell, and even if he was annoyed with her for a brief period of time, she knew he would appreciate it after. Besides, everything she had dragged him to turned into a fairly good time, and he did like her friends, so there weren't many downsides to getting him out and into a social setting.

Loki surfaced some moments later dressed in a smart pair of dark jeans, fitted in a way that made her eye him appreciatively, and a green plaid shirt. He tugged at it awkwardly, since he seemed to have gotten a size just a bit too small – either that or she shrunk it in the wash when she did their last shared load. Woops.

"Question," she said as she slipped on her black fall coat, hoping that it wouldn't be too warm romping around outside in it.

"Hmm?"

"I'm not… I'm not forcing you to do this kind of stuff, am I?"

He glanced up as her as he forced his feet into a pair of shoes, disbelief plain on his features, and then smirked, "Was that a serious question?"

"Yeah," she replied, leaning back against the front door as she watched him slide into his black jacket neatly. "I mean… I don't want to make you do something you really, really don't want to do. I just… want you to get the experience and be included in some fun stuff every so often. But you know, if you ever… really don't want to, or-"

"Max," he sighed, raising a finger to silence her, "I know what you are doing… I understand your intentions. If I was ever so vehemently opposed to your suggestions, you would know."

"Okay, good," Max beamed, snatching up her worn black boots and shoving her feet into them. "Come on then… We're going to be late."

"Don't see how you can be late to something that doesn't have a start time," he muttered as he followed her out, but shot her a bit of a cheeky grin when she glanced up at him. Max smacked his arm playfully as he passed, and they marched through the parking lot beneath a glorious sun. There were just enough clouds in the sky to give them coverage when it was needed, but the sun kept a fall day in mid-October tolerable and warmer than days when it was raining and dreary, so they ought to be thankful.

As Loki climbed into the car, she fired a quick text to Ben to let him know they were on their way, and then sidled into the driver's seat.

"When can I learn how to drive?" Loki inquired, his eyes on her hands as she did the usual warm-up with checking mirrors and getting the engine going.

"Whenever you want," she insisted. "Whenever you have a free day."

"Next Saturday?"

Max pursed her lips as they rolled out of the parking lot onto the usual quiet street, and then shook her head, "I have a midterm Sunday morning, so probably not… Why don't we try for after Halloween?"

"Before I make a fool of myself in front of your friends," Loki started. "Halloween is that holiday where you all dress up, correct?"

"Yup," Max said with a smile, her eyes focused on the road. "It was traditionally done to scare the demons away… or… something… because they all come back from the dead that night. Something like that."

"Your strength in vocabulary never ceases to amaze me," he sighed. "Will I be forced to dress up on this event?"

"Oh, we're going to go crazy on your costume," Max said excitedly. "We're holding nothing back…"

"I see you've given this a great deal of thought already."

"I don't know what you're going to be," she insisted, hoping that she hadn't come across as a creep, "but whatever you decide on will be made epic. Tiffany does awesome special effects make-up, so we can do like… an eyeball hanging halfway down your face, or have your throat slit… It'll be _awesome_."

"I think I might actually like this holiday," he mused as they turned onto Ben's street. "It seems very… childish, all of this with the pumpkins and costumes. A child's fantasy to frighten dead beings…"

"Well, a little," Max admitted with a nod. She pulled up next to the curb by Ben's house and honked twice, and finally looked at Loki. "It's all a bit childish, but I think there's a part of everyone in them that doesn't want to grow up. I mean… I've been going to this patch since I was… five? Yeah, five. It's mostly families and their kids, but it's the good feeling it gives you, you know?"

"I suppose I will see when the day is finished," he mused, glancing out the window when Max waved to an approaching Ben and Tiffany. They were all dressed similarly: jeans and fall jackets, though Tiffany had a pair of bright yellow combat boots on that made Max a little jealous.

"Morning, ladies," she crooned as she slid into the back seat, automatically taking her usual spot in the middle. "How are we today?"

"Excited as fuck," Max replied as elegantly as she could. "Have you met my roommate yet?"

"No," Tiffany remarked, sliding forward and extending her hand for Loki to shake, bracelets dangling noisily. "I'm Tiffany, Garret's girlfriend."

"Loki," he responded, his large hand completely engulfing her small one when he shook it. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, formal," Tiff giggled, shooting Max a look with wiggled eyebrows before she eased back into her seat.

Garret joined the group shortly after, and once they were buckled, Max pulled away from the curb. She could feel Garret's knees pressed into the back of her seat, but there wasn't much she could do about that; Ben, Garret, _and_ Loki were all pretty tall, at least six feet, so Tiffany was probably the only comfortable one in the backseat.

"So have you ever gone to the pumpkin patch before, Loki?" Tiffany asked. Max glanced in her rear-view mirror and caught Ben's eye, and she smiled excitedly at him, a look he returned with relish.

"I can't say I have," Loki replied casually as they came to a stop at a set of lights. "Why exactly do we… collect pumpkins?"

"How do you not know-"

"He's a Brit, guys," Max said quickly, cutting Garret off mid-question. "They clearly don't do anything fun over there."

"Which is actually kind of funny, because the tradition of the jack-o-lantern comes out of Irish and English folklore," Ben interjected before Tiffany could offer a less historical reasoning for slicing things into pumpkins. Loki turned in his seat to eye her friend, and Ben carried on quickly.

"You see, people place carved pumpkins with lights in them to protect their homes from the Undead. It comes from a tale where a man named Jack warded off the Devil by tricking him… He was a thief, and even though he held the Devil off from taking him to Hell, when he eventually died, he wasn't welcome in Heaven _or_ Hell. The Devil supposedly gave him an ember that would never burn out, and he placed it inside a hollowed out vegetable while his soul was cursed to wander the Earth forever. He became known as Jack of the Lantern, and that turned into jack-o-lantern."

"Your head is an encyclopedia," Garret muttered, and Max grinned when Tiffany smacked his arm.

"And how does that ward off the Undead?" Loki asked.

"Oh, well, people believe that the light will frighten away vampires," Ben explained, "and those are the true Undead on Earth. Jack's story just gives them the name, I guess."

"The more you know," Max trilled, citing that old commercial that spewed random facts at grade school children under the guise of being educational. Ben chuckled in the back.

"How else would you all know so many useful facts about our world if I didn't tell you?"

"My head wouldn't be crammed with so much useless shit," Garret insisted playfully. "Do you know we have a Fun Facts wall at our house on the second floor? Guess who is the only one who updates it?"

"None of you seem to have fun facts," Ben argued weakly.

"Well, I always like reading it," Tiffany stated. Loki chuckled softly as he turned back to face the front, and she met his gaze for a brief moment, which resulted in smiles on both sides.

Max flicked on the radio as they neared the edge of Masonville, and then fiddled around with the stations until she found one that wasn't riddled with static. In the meantime, her friends managed to keep the conversation going with Loki adding bits and pieces occasionally. The pumpkin patch was a good forty minutes away; the distance may have been a little unnecessary, but it was the same farm they had been going to since they were in high school, so it had a significance that made the drive worth it.

The roads were fairly empty, and the gorgeous weather seemed to extend beyond Masonville. The trees littered the sides of the freeway, and Max felt her mood lift to an immeasurable level when she examined the beautiful mixture of coloured leaves on both sides of her. At that very moment, an ancient tune belted from the radio, and Tiffany demanded she turn up the volume.

"No, god," Garret groaned as he kicked at her chair. "_Please_ spare my eardrums."

Max smirked as she reached for the circular volume knob, and Tiffany immediately began belting a fairly terrible rendition of Aqua's _Dr. Jones_ circa 1997.

Ben moaned from the backseat and placed his hands over his ears, "Loki, you're our only hope!"

She and Loki turned to one another at that exact same time, and she raised an eyebrow, daring him to make a move toward the volume control. It was lucky for them that there was no one else on the road; it appeared to be nothing more than a lazy Saturday afternoon, and most of the traffic had stopped once they hit country roads.

"So, where does that hand think it's going?" she inquired as she spied Loki's hand creeping toward the radio control system between them.

"Oh, nowhere," Loki remarked casually. "If you hear a sudden drop in screeching, don't be alarmed-"

However, before he could get any closer, Max slapped the top of his hand with extreme accuracy, and he hastily retracted it.

"Don't mess with Aqua," she warned him, her best attempt at a serious expression foiled when Tiffany belted the repeated chorus, her voice cracking horribly from the back. She couldn't help but snort, and Loki focused on nursing his hand a little too dramatically.

When the song finally came to a glorious end, Max turned down the volume to allow for some sort of conversation to resume, and Garret immediately suggested a game to pass the time.

"Ben," he began. "Blonde or brunette?"

Ben paused for a moment, and she watched him in the mirror as he shrugged and sheepishly remarked, "Brunette."

Loki shot her a knowing look, which she pointedly ignored.

"Tiff," Ben continued. "Sex on the beach or sex in a car?"

"Dirty mind, _Ben_!" Max trilled, shocked that her normally awkward friend had jumped to the meatier questions so early on in the game. Tiffany rolled her eyes, arms folded across her ample chest, and then shrugged.

"Car," she replied casually. "Too much sand in too many places on the beach. Max, intelligence or looks?"

She sucked in her cheeks, as though it was a difficult question, and then shook her head, "Guess I'll have to go with looks."

"The rules of This or That demands honesty," Garret said loudly. "I challenge that response!"

"You're such a loser," Max laughed. "You _know_ my answer is intelligence. Right… Loki, Kraft Dinner or my mom's homemade pasta?"

"No contest," Loki remarked, clearly catching onto the fairly simplistic game without her needing to explain too much. "The homemade noodles will win every time."

"Those things could win a Nobel Prize," Ben added from the back, and she grinned. They all waited for a moment for Loki to pose his question, but he sat in silence, as though watching a game unfurl that he wasn't involved in.

"Go," she whispered. "Ask your question."

"Right," he said quickly. "Uh, Tiffany… Green or purple?"

Not the best question in the history of questions, but there had definitely been worse.

"Purple," Tiffany responded without missing a beat. "Garret, boxers or briefs?"

"Boxers all day every day," her boyfriend insisted coyly. Ben made a gagging sound as the two grinned at one another, and Max giggled a little.

The game continued for another ten minutes or so, until it finally landed back on her. She decided after seeing the sign for her beloved pumpkin patch, her last question would be posed to Loki, who had come out of the game relatively unscathed.

"Loki," Max started, "boobs or butt?"

"What?" he asked, eyebrows shooting up as he stared over at her. She smirked.

"Which do you prefer?"

It wasn't really something that she needed to know, but she thought you could tell a lot about a guy by which part of a woman's anatomy he had a preference for. Loki pondered it over for a moment, and she glanced over at him as she slowed the car down. They were approaching more traffic at this point, and she had probably been a little too heavy on the gas when there was no one else around.

His eyes flickered down to her legs for a split second, just slow enough for her to catch, and he smirked.

"Legs."

She nibbled on her lower lip a little, her cheeks igniting in a way they hadn't done once that morning.

"Diplomatic answer," Garret laughed from behind her.

"Truthful, I should say," Loki offered in response. Max forced her gaze back to the road, unable to keep a massive smile from spreading across her face.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**I hadn't initially decided to do this in two parts. However, as I was writing today, I realized that everything I wanted to do in this chapter would probably take me at least a week to write, and I wanted to throw an update out there for you all! So, I decided to split it into two, and the rest of the chapter shall be started tomorrow, and hopefully finished by the end of the week. After part 2 of this chapter, there will only be one chapter separating us from the hinted at Halloween chapter. Or not. Depends on how I feel like writing things.  
**

**I'd like to think Loki and Max are each getting flirtier with one another. In the next chapter, there **_**will**_** be sexual implications. Brace yourselves, sexy times are possibly coming. **

**See what I did there? Aha. I'm a huge dork. **

**So yeah, it may not have seemed like much happened in this chapter, but we can take a few things away from it: Max wants to cut Loki's hair, she's planning to teach him to drive, Halloween costumes will be epic, Ben's crush on Max is getting a little stronger, and Loki likes legs. Max's legs. **

**Let's do this. See you soon! Thanks for all the thoughtful reviews – they always have something wonderful to add, and I love reading them! Also, I really appreciate the adds to favourite lists and followers, so yeay!**


	15. Pumpkin Patch: Part Two

Judging from the amount of cars in the parking lot, Max deduced that the patch was a little busier than they had expected. It wasn't going to be a problem, though when Garret mused about shoving children aside in order to get a spot on the tractor-towed trailer ride out to get the actual pumpkins, Loki seemed mildly unimpressed. However, after a car ride of being social, Max decided Loki was allowed to have a few moments of irritation with the state of her giddy friends. Once she pulled her old car into the make-shift dirt parking lot, Max finally turned off the vehicle and unbuckled her seatbelt, pleased to be getting out after the drive up. Her legs felt a little stiff at the movement, and she stretched upward happily, feeling some joints crack. Satisfied, she adjusted her jacket, and then joined Loki's side as they followed the rest of the group toward the entrance of the patch.

The layout was fairly simplistic; all customers paid a small entrance fee at the main shed, fences on either side, and once they passed through they had free access to everything that there was to offer. There were two barns for visitors to enjoy, one that housed various sorts of animals, and the other that had been reconstructed as a children's play zone with tunnels, rope swings, and hay just about everywhere. She noticed that they had upped the safety aspects of that particular barn over the last few years, and kids weren't allowed to climb up into the rafters and jump down like she and Nolan did when they were younger.

Aside from the barns, there was a small market that sold fresh homemade goods, like pies and muffins. There were also dozens of wooden cut-outs of various characters with the faces missing, which she was usually forced to take ridiculous pictures behind at the request of her friends – a task she would groan about, but secretly enjoy. One area was a sandpit filled with various toys for the younger kids, and next to that was a haunted house that tended to stay the same year after year, but was always worth a good scream or two regardless. A standard feature of almost every pumpkin patch she went to was a large corn maze, and on the other side loomed the massive pumpkin field that one was taken to by a tractor ride.

At this point, Max had been to this particular pumpkin patch so many times that she could have walked through it with her eyes shut. She strolled through the parking lot with her hands in her pockets, and then stiffened slightly when Loki wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She was still reeling from his final response to the This or That game, so even the slightest touch brought colour to her cheeks. When he leaned down, his voice in her ear, she was surprised she managed to keep the composure she did.

"He's so desperately in love with you," Loki droned, nodding in Ben's direction. "It's actually entertaining to watch him beg for your attention."

"Stop it," she hissed, a little turned off that he brought it up.

She had noticed Ben chiming in a little more than usual in the conversation, especially if the topic related to her in some way, but Max firmly told herself that he was _always_ like this, and she was only thinking too much about it because Loki tried to make it a big deal.

"You can't deny it," Loki told her cheekily. "I'm surprised he didn't fight me for the front seat…"

"All right, let's keep the crazy opinions to ourselves, shall we?" Max mused as they joined up with the other three at the cash area. Loki simply grinned in response, and she nudged his arm off her when Ben glanced over his shoulder.

She reached into her pocket to retrieve her change; Max had brought enough to pay for herself and Loki (seeing as she was forcing him here and all) and then the remainder would cover two pies that would be their desserts for the next month. However, after Garret and Tiffany sorted out their entrance, she watched Ben fork out enough cash to cover the remainder of the tickets.

"What are you doing?" she asked as the woman behind a small table handed Ben three tickets, "You didn't-"

"Consider it my payment for gas," Ben insisted softly as he stuffed two tickets into her hand.

"You don't have to pay for gas," Man groaned, but he held up his hands and backed away, his grin growing into a bigger smile as she smirked at him.

Shaking her head, she turned back and handed the final ticket to Loki, who gave her a pointed look. She rolled her eyes and held up a warning finger, "Don't say anything."

"Haven't the slightest idea what you're implying," Loki remarked as he sauntered passed her and toward the actual entrance of the patch. Pursing her lips, Max hurried up after the crowd, flashing her ticket toward an elderly woman seated on a lawn chair as though she were some form of security.

Once inside, her brief moments of anxiety disappeared as she looked around the familiar setting. She took a deep breath, and was then tugged by Garret to pose at the wooden cut-outs of cartoon characters for the camera. Tiffany begged Loki to be in one with her, but that seemed like one task her roommate wasn't up for, and instead offered to point the camera at whatever they wanted. So, with their hands free, the remaining four of the group were able to take a ridiculous amount of stupid pictures around the wooden cut-outs, and she deduced that they were probably the most immature of all the patrons there that day. The final photo was one of her and Ben as an old, obscenely fat couple holding a pig between them, but they ended up switching places so that Max was the husband and Ben was the wife, their faces stoic.

With the obligatory photos out of the way, most of them approved by both Max and Tiffany for online posting once they were home, they essentially moved wherever Tiffany wanted to go. The short redhead bounced all over the place, insisting that they have a look at the sheep before they went much further. So, it was off to the animal barn for a brief visit, and while Garret, Ben, and Tiffany raced inside, Max lingered behind with Loki.

"So this is what you did as a girl?" he asked as he gave the dark green barn a once over.

"Well, not all the time," Max insisted, realizing how quaint and boring it might seem, "but it goes with the season, you know?"

"Apparently."

Her eyes narrowed at the thought of him judging one of her favourite events of the entire month, but she let it drop when he wandered into the barn, nose wrinkled at the scent of animal. She stayed by his side, preferring not to leave him alone; normally she would have flocked from pen to pen with Tiffany or Ben to make judgements about the animals inside, but she figured it would be rude to leave him out of these things. They eventually meandered toward a fairly large cow, who was currently eating grain out of a small girl's hand. However, both stopped in their tracks when the beast sneezed violently, an array of snot and half-chewed grain spraying across the girl's face. They parted the way quickly as the girl raced out shrieking for her mom, and then turned back toward the large doorway without a word exchanged between the two.

After the other three had gotten their fill of farm animal for the year, Max eyed the haunted house across the way and grinned.

"So," she started, nodding toward it excitedly, "are we ready for our pre-Halloween scare?"

Tiffany made a face and then clung to Garret's arm, "I might sit it out this year-"

"I'll protect you," Garret insisted as he gave the side of her head a reassuring kiss. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"I know, but it still scares me."

"Statistically," Ben started, "no one has ever experienced more than a panic attack in these sorts of things unless their health was already an issue… Most people just feel claustrophobic rather than actual terror, and the darkness can make it difficult for the senses to tell your brain exactly what's happening to it."

"Thanks for explaining how a haunted house works," Garret told him with a chuckle. "I wasn't aware darkness was disorientating… Come on, let's get it over it."

"What exactly is this?" Loki asked warily as they moved toward the building, screams emanating from its depths. "It sounds like a torture chamber."

"Oh, it's just a house that you walk through," Max insisted casually, shrugging off his concerns as though they were trivial. "Not for the faint of heart, mind you, so if you want to sit out with Tiffany, you can."

"I never said that."

"I'm just saying," Max goaded, shooting him a grin over her shoulder as they hurried toward the building. "You have the chance to back out now."

"Why do I suspect you're all talk?" Loki mused, "But you'll leave it looking like that…"

She followed his pointed finger toward the exit on the other side of the building, and quickly spotted a preteen girl leading a sobbing toddler out by the hand. Max stuck her tongue out at him, and then trekked on fearlessly, following behind Garret and a cowering Tiffany into the darkness. It was the same as always: a few surprise scares here, some horrible laughter there, a hand grabbing at her from behind a wall, snarling, moving eyes in portraits, and ghastly scenes staged by theatre props. There were a few times that she did actually scream, mostly prompted on by Tiffany's shrieking, and she had instinctively clutched for Loki's hand behind her. When she did, he seemed to hold back just as tight, which seemed to numb the fear for the time being.

Once they stumbled through the final door and back out into the daylight, she turned back to ask him what he thought of it, only to find herself facing Ben, her hand in his. Fuck.

"I think it was a little scarier this year," he admitted. Max tugged her hand away quickly, and he ran his now freed one through his shaggy hair, swallowing noticeably. _Fuuuuck_.

She heard Loki snort from behind, and he shut the door to the haunted house noisily as he stepped outside.

"I'm not really sure what the fuss was about," he admitted, shooting a look at a quivering Tiffany as Garret soothed her. "I mean, everything was false."

"Well, did you expect _real_ axe murders chasing us at the end?" Max droned sarcastically, rolling her eyes a little. Ben lingered in front of her, his eyes on her face as though he was oblivious to the fact that he was staring, and she cleared her throat, "Ben, why don't you check tractor times? Tiff could probably do with some wide open spaces for a bit."

"Yeah, sure."

She watched as he sauntered off toward a small station, which usually had a sign posted to announce the arrival of the next tractor to take a new group out to get pumpkins.

"He pushed me right out of the way to be your hero," Loki teased, head ducked down so that he could whisper it quietly to her. She glared at him.

"No, he didn't," she snapped, knowing full-well Ben wasn't the kind of guy to take that sort of initiative. "Stop meddling here when there's nothing to meddle with."

"But meddling is what I do," Loki insisted, the hairs on the back of her neck rising quickly as he spoke. "It's part of my appeal."

"It's not as attractive as you think it is," Max remarked carefully, shooting him a bit of a warning look as she spied Ben approaching.

"Okay, so there is one leaving in five minutes, or fifteen minutes," Ben told the group once they had gathered around.

"Why don't we do the corn maze first then?" Max suggested, fully aware that it was an integral part of the experience that would be more difficult with pumpkins to lug around after.

"Deal!" Tiffany giggled, clearly recovered from her ordeal in the dark. The corn maze was probably her favourite part about the entire trip. "All right, so first to the exit doesn't have to pay for their pumpkin?"

"As always," Garret grinned.

There were four entrances to the pumpkin patch, and normally each person took one of the entrances, and first to the finish didn't have to purchase their pumpkin. However, seeing as there were five people this time around, Max grabbed Loki's arm to drag him toward one of the openings.

"Oh no," Tiffany said loudly, grabbing Loki's other arm and giving it a tug, "he's with me… I need all the height I can get to win this thing."

Garret certainly didn't seem to have any objections to the coupling, having already gone to the entrance he thought would suit him the best. Loki shot her a bit of a pleading look over his shoulder as Tiffany dragged him away, but she merely shrugged, secretly a little pleased to see him squirm. At least he wasn't being left out of anything; Tiffany would probably ride him through the maze and come out victorious. Sneaky plan, Tiff… Sneaky plan.

Max took her place at one of the entrances, and then bent down as though getting ready to start a race. She could already hear kids laughing and screeching inside, but she was sure none of her friends would go _too_ overboard with their competitive desire to win – no need to push any little ones out of the way, or anything.

Well, no need to push them hard. This wasn't just about not paying for a pumpkin – it was about honour.

"On your marks," Garret shouted officially, his hands up in the air. "Get ready… Go!"

She took off like a shot, grinning to herself as she waved through the narrow lanes of corn. It would have been easy to just cut through everything in order to come out on the other side, but then what was the point in playing at all? She darted left as her maze turned, and then came to a stop at a T-junction. Left or right? At this point, she knew that she was turned around and on the far left of the field, so she opted to take the right and see where that brought her. Thus far, she hadn't hit a dead end, and she heard Tiffany curse somewhere nearby to indicate that she and Loki might have.

Max smirked a little, and then tried to put as much distance between her and them as she could. However, as her trail opened up into another, she heard a set of footsteps thundering toward her, and shrieked a little when Ben appeared at her side.

"We seem like-minded," he commented, a little out of breath. "Have you seen anyone else?"

"I heard Tiffany-"

"The _world_ heard Tiffany," Ben chuckled, hands on his hips as he clearly tried to appear not to pant. "There were a few angry moms back there who heard her too."

Max laughed at the thought, and then became acutely aware of just how close her friend was standing to her body. The atmosphere suddenly became uncomfortable, and she took a step back in an effort to alleviate it.

"So," Ben said suddenly, his cheeks a tad pink. "I was thinking-"

"Oh, look!" Max cried, pleased to see Loki's head bobbing by two rows over, "There they go!"

Don't judge, okay? She couldn't deal with that kind of shit from Ben right now, and she definitely didn't need anyone proving Loki right in this case.

So, she tried her best to keep cheerful, laughing frequently as she and Ben darted through the trails of corn stocks. They paused every so often to check if their competitors were nearby, and eventually they managed to find a clear path that took them straight to the exit. The only problem was that Tiff and Loki ended up emerging from a trail nearby at roughly the same time, and Max realized it would be a rush to the finish. Without much said between them, all four tore off toward the exit, and Max ended up shrieking in surprise when she felt Loki loop his arms around her waist and haul her back.

"What are you doing?" she grunted, legs flailing as she tried to squirm out of his grasp, "You're going to make me lose!"

"I struck a deal with Tiffany," Loki muttered cheekily. "If I get rid of you, and she tackles Ben, we'll win as a team."

"Lame!" Max groaned.

In the distance, she watched Tiffany shove Ben into a wall of corn, and she sighed as the woman pranced out the exit with her hands in the air. "She wins _every_ year! You were just a pawn…"

"Don't be bitter because you lost," he chuckled, setting her down gently. His arms lingered around her frame, and she felt her cheeks darken as Loki whispered, "If you ask nicely, I could say you were involved in the team too."

Max wriggled loose and pushed him away, trying desperately not to smile too much, "Traitor!"

At that very moment, he leaned down, as though going in to kiss her, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. However, he came to a stop a few millimetres from her lips, and then laughed.

"Not a traitor," he insisted pleasantly, "a _strategist_."

Her breath tumbled out gracelessly after he sauntered away, and Max licked her lips as she watched Loki help Ben to his feet a little further up the trail. She could hear children giggling somewhere nearby, and she hurried after the group, her stomach squirming happily at what had just transpired.

In the end, it turned out that Garret had beaten every single other person to the exit, and gloated quite happily at the prospect of finding the biggest pumpkin he could find for the rest of them to pay for. Tiffany seemed a little grumpy to be beaten for the first time, but her mood perked considerably when they spotted the tractor rolling in to take the next group to gather their pumpkins. The group raced over, not wanting to lose their spot to a group of preteens, and clambered onto the back of a fairly large trailer that ought to be able to hold at least fifteen people. Seated on hay bales, Max found herself stuck snugly between Loki and Ben, a place she definitely didn't want to be. Tiff took a seat on Garret's lap, and they watched in an excited silence as the trailer started to fill up with other families.

She felt Ben's arm touch her back lightly as he brought it up to rest on the wooden gate behind her; Max licked her lips and sighed, asking some higher being to give her patience. When the tractor started up, it was too noisy for anyone to get any sort of good conversation in, and Max felt herself relax as they pulled out and made their trip around the width of the corn field, onward and outward toward the patch on the other side. There were little scenes along the way of goblins and ghouls buried within the stalks of corn, and Max pointed them out to Loki in the same way a nearby young boy did with his father. Loki responded with the same bemused smile that the man did with his boy, and she felt like he was just humouring her. She then kept her finger to herself, and decided he could find his own damn scenery if he was only going to humour her.

The ride lasted about ten minutes to get around the cornfield and go up a small hill, at the top of which was a lush patch of pumpkins. They were going fairly early on in the month at this point, which meant there were still going to be good pumpkins around for them to choose from. Once the tractor came to a halt, they all waited as the gaggle of children rushed off the trailer, and soon followed them out into the field. The tractor would return in fifteen minutes, according to the driver, and they had the option of catching it then or waiting until the following one.

Or they could walk back, but that seemed unappealing with a large pumpkin in hand.

"All right," Loki said as he surveyed the field with his arms folded. "Am I to just… pick the one I want?"

"That's the gist of it, yup," she told him with a nod. "Go… Be free! Find one that will be good enough to carve something into. We'll do that when we get home."

"Oh, the anticipation is welling up within me," he muttered as he started out into the field, stumbling a little over a pile of dirt. She smirked at him; he was secretly pretty pumped to be here, she knew that.

Max veered off to the left, on the hunt for the perfect pumpkin of her own, and soon found herself joined by a certain little redhead.

"So," Tiffany started, pausing when Max did in order to get a closer look at a moderately large pumpkin. Too big. "Are you and him a thing?"

"What?"

"You and Loki."

Max swallowed nervously, her cheeks reddening, and she shook her head, "No, no, that'd be weird. I just… He's really good looking, you know?"

"I noticed, yeah."

"I like to flirt sometimes," she told her friend with a shrug. "I mean, it's fun and it doesn't mean anything, so why not?"

"I guess," Tiffany agreed as they carried on, stopping only once to pick up a perfectly round little pumpkin and holding it close to her chest. "It'd be super weird if you guys did anything considering you live together."

"I _know_, right?" Max laughed, pushing her hair out of her face as she surveyed the field. There were a few pumpkins that caught her eye, and she sloshed through the dirt in order to inspect them. "It'd be so weird."

"But you aren't into him, right?"

"It's just a physical thing," Max insisted, more to herself than to Tiff. "He's good looking, and we get along, so it's easy to be flirty… but otherwise there's nothing for anyone to be worried about."

"Fair enough," Tiffany commented. "I asked if he was into you when we were in the maze."

Her heart skipped a beat, "What?"

"I just had this feeling," Tiffany continued. "He didn't really say anything… Maybe if I get a few drinks in him he might be a bit more forthcoming. He's charming."

"Yeah, he's been known to do that sometimes."

"Well, when he's living with a hot piece like you…"

Max snorted noisily, and she finally ducked down to examine a pumpkin that seemed just right to her. It was easy to carry, and one side seemed a little flatter than the rest, which could work for carving or as a backing to rest against a wall. Perfect. With that in hand, the conversation drifted more toward Tiffany and Garret's relationship, and the two girls sauntered back toward the pick-up spot to wait for the boys. Loki joined them shortly after, a moderately sized pumpkin in hand, and he opted to sit on the ground by her legs, back against the hay bale she was seated on. Max carried on her conversation as though he wasn't there, almost acutely aware that more than one person would be watching their interactions for signs of a growing attraction.

As always, Ben and Garret took their sweet time finding the perfect pumpkins, and were forced to race across the field to make the tractor back with Loki and the girls. Max and Tiffany spent a couple of minutes making fun of their scramble onto the back of the trailer, massive pumpkins in hand, and then settled back in for the ride back to the main attractions.

When the finally returned, it was unanimously decided that it was time for a quick venture to the market to buy some baked goods, and then they ought to start the drive back. The trips here always seemed to fly by, even though they managed to do just about everything possible, and Max felt a small hint of sadness that her annual trip to the pumpkin patch was coming to an end. However, it couldn't be over without a blueberry and a pumpkin pie in hand, and she made a beeline for both stands, keen on grabbing them before the herd of mothers encroaching on them took all the good ones.

Tiffany seemed to have the same idea, and it was the boys who lingered by the exit, pumpkins at their feet. Just as she approached after making all of her purchases, Max heard something that made her a little anxious.

"Max's real name?" Ben repeated to Loki, his eyebrows up. "Well, I don't know if-"

"Nope, no, not happening!" Max cried as she nearly pounced on him, shooting Loki a vile look, "That isn't something you get to know just yet."

"Haven't I earned at least the first letter?" Loki inquired playfully, grinning at her as she glared.

"No!"

"Someone is going to crack," Loki told them, his eyes dancing from Garret to Ben to Tiffany as she sauntered up. "Someone will tell me before you do."

"Ha," she laughed mirthlessly. "No."

"Wait until I've slipped them a few drinks," her roommate chuckled darkly. "I hardly believe there will be much of a filter for anything then."

"Well, that's not happening tonight," she told him smugly. "Come on… It looks like it's going to rain."

Loki glanced up at the darkening sky quickly as she turned away, and she could have sworn she heard him grumble something under his breath about a thunderstorm. She ignored it, momentarily soothed that he wasn't going to learn the embarrassment that was her first name anytime soon. However, it was fairly clear he was on the prowl, which meant she would have to keep her guard up on just about everything from mail orders to emails. Ugh.

The car ride back to her apartment was essentially the same as the ride there. They listened to the radio, chatted about school work and TA duties, and Max listened to her friends grill Loki about his future plans with his college degree. The ride home seemed much faster than the one there, and she assumed it was because the better part of the day was over, and there was nothing more to anticipate. Yes, carving pumpkins was fun, but not quite as fun as the actual pumpkin patch itself. However, she had plans to roast the pumpkin seeds after they gutted the innards of the pumpkin. It was her mom's method, and her friends always seemed to enjoy munching on them in front of the TV.

She wasn't all that sure how excited Loki was to endure another couple of hours with her friends, but he seemed much more low-key than she had anticipated. When they pulled up at the apartment complex, he went and unlocked the door first, and cleared off the kitchen island as the rest of them brought in their pumpkins.

Before they got into slicing up their canvases, Max demanded that they lay down some newspaper so that no one sliced through into the island while working. With that taken care of, they set up their stations, Loki at her right. She then quickly began to preheat the stove, a routine she was familiar with when it came to pumpkin seeds.

* * *

"You want me to just… put my hand in there?"

Loki wrinkled his nose down at the inside of the round, orange vegetable in front of him, and then glanced back at everyone else. He couldn't understand _why_ anyone would want to do this. In theory, yes, he could see why it might have become a tradition, but why did people feel the need to carry it on? Why couldn't they let it go to the wayside like dozens of other traditions that he was forced to learn about in his history lessons? It was simply baffling the mundane things that humans did and considered 'fun'.

Now, it wasn't that he had a terrible time today. Quite the contrary, in fact, as Max's friends had been as pleasant as ever, and there were a number of different things for him to do outside of this miniscule town that he would have never anticipated. Plus, he got to spend most of the trip tormenting both Max and Ben about the man's growing feelings for Loki's roommate, which was probably the best part of the day thus far.

While Max seemed endlessly embarrassed at the thought of it, Ben was especially keen on pursing it… Loki _may_ have pulled him in front as they entered the haunted house, giving him the old nod toward Max, as though giving his permission. However, he liked watching the human's face fall a little when Max hurried back over to Loki; it was a delightfully mischievous game, something he hadn't done in years, and for once it meant no ends of worlds or death to humanity – this was just a bit of commonplace entertainment.

Unfortunately, Loki was quickly learning that his mortal condition brought a much more pressing issue, and it was one that he was starting to find difficult to ignore. As a god, he did have lustful urges, but they were easily controlled and pushed out of his mind. They had never been a distraction before, and yet as a normal, ordinary, pathetic human, they seemed to dominate his every thought whenever he was surrounded by women. Classes were torture, what with these young women and their tight pants and fitted tops. He then had to return home to a woman who was clearly interested in furthering their relationship beyond that of a platonic one, and he had to force himself into a cold shower in order to spend the night next to her on the couch in front of the television screen. It was endlessly frustrating, embarrassing, and his lack of release had a knack for putting him in a sour mood.

As if he needed _another_ reason to be angry with the way things had turned out for him; he was already living in a worthless body leading some pointless existence, and now he wanted nothing more than to copulate excessively with the women around him! Naturally, he wasn't completely controlled by his new primal instincts, and he _could_ regulate himself to the point where he was still socially accepted by those around him – Loki wasn't an animal. However, his patience and resistance to any sort of temptation did not make the thoughts any less poignant if Max was to bend down to grab a fallen book, or Tiffany was to bounce around with that ridiculous chest of hers in front of him.

Honestly, if all mortal men felt like this most of the time, he wasn't sure how they had become such a powerful species.

It was even difficult focusing on his stupid pumpkin with Max nibbling on her lower lip, deep in concentration, and Tiffany peeling off layers of her top because she professed to be warm. Honestly.

"Yup," Max replied after a moment, grinning at him as she wedged her hand inside her pumpkin. "Guts out and into the bowl… It will be worth it when we're done."

He somehow very much doubted her, but he complied anyway, thinking the stringy insides of the orange vegetable felt more like the innards of an animal than anything else. However, everyone seemed to think it was perfectly normal, and eventually he began to enjoy himself. Not too much, mind you, but he wasn't as put off by the task as he was at the start. He still couldn't quite understand the purpose, but perhaps that wasn't the point – maybe he just ought to enjoy himself and let his brain shut off.

There were a million other things he could be thinking of at this very moment, but as Max had suggested earlier on in the day, this was a good activity to tune everything out.

Lately, Loki had been working like a madman, and when he wasn't fantasizing about pushing some poor, unsuspecting girl up against a bookshelf, he was constantly trying to make himself the best of the best in every category of his new life. He was top of Ludwick's biology class, and had been from the start. His manager at work gave him nothing but compliments, even though he loathed every single ridiculous minute of serving other snotty teenagers. He did it all in order to gain recognition, and to gain a backing of support. He may not need it now, but there might be a chance in the very near future – if things ever started to go his way – that he could make use of his allies once more.

"If you throw that at me, I will end you," Max hissed, her best attempts at a threat falling to deaf ears as the other three carried on their conversation.

Loki then realized he had a handful of pumpkin innards in one hand, and he had drifted off staring at her as she bent over the kitchen island to throw some of her pumpkin's guts in the communal bowl. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant, and then silently berated his ridiculously hormonal mind for making him so easily distracted.

Once they had all gutted their pumpkins, Max set about washing the seeds, as she intended to cook them. Loki was about to insist that they shouldn't leave her in charge of anything related to the oven, but she then bent down in front of him to grab a cooking tray from the drawer beneath, and he lost his train of thought.

Damn it. Blinking rapidly, he turned his attention back to the remaining three. Ben seemed very keen on showing Max a sketch he had done of some metropolitan's skyline, and he was going to carve it into his pumpkin. Loki assumed the man would have expert detail, considering he seemed to be a bit of a genius when it came to most things other than flirting with the opposite sex. Tiffany was carving a rabbit into hers – apparently she was something of an artist – and her boyfriend seemed to have the same idea as Max. Both of them were drawing pumpkins that looked like they were vomiting, and Max was to save some of the stringy insides for the effect. Meanwhile, Loki decided on producing some sort of checkered pattern of squares all over his orange ball of vegetable, and set to work in silence.

The exercise took the better part of an hour, and when Loki had finished, he still wasn't exactly sure what the point of it all was. However, Max insisted that they would put candles in them and set it all on the front porch, and he would see the traditions come to life. His future really was full of thrills. When all was said and done with the pumpkins, no one seemed to object when Loki told them he needed to do a bit of coursework in his room, and he drifted back toward it as the rest of them settled down on the couch.

He could hear the television behind his closed door, but all he could really do was sit at this desk and stare at his textbooks. This mundane existence was starting to gnaw away at him more so than it had before, and he was beginning to wonder just when his punishment would come to an end. Even if it meant facing some sort of trial in Asgard, Loki would have taken it over sitting around being perfectly ordinary. It might have been acceptable for Max and her friends, but he wasn't put in this universe to be an ordinary citizen without any power. Unfortunately, at this very moment, he couldn't formulate enough of a plan to get him out of his predicament: negotiations with Ludwick were slow, he had almost no money, and he was probably hornier than he had been in quite some time.

Did Thor ever experience this problem? Actually, that was probably why he found that little Jane woman while he was stuck on Earth… That had to cure _something_, at the very least.

Some time had passed, and Loki suddenly heard a light tapping on his door. Moments later, Max poked her head in.

"Hey," she greeted as she slipped inside, a small bowl in her hands, "I brought you some pumpkin seeds…" She trailed off as she arched an eyebrow at his desk, currently scattered with unopened books, "Glad to see you're working hard."

"I've been thinking," Loki told her flatly, eyebrows shooting up as she placed the bowl in front of him. "These look… slightly unappetizing, I'm afraid. I just… Knowing where they came from…"

"They taste awesome," she remarked, hands on her hips as she stood next to him. "Eat one."

"No."

"I worked hard on them, so eat one," she ordered playfully, poking his shoulder as he crossed his arms defiantly.

Loki wanted to push her a little, just to see what she would do. As expected, she grabbed two seeds and brought them toward his face, but he ducked out of the way with ease, one hand coming up to nudge her aside. However, the woman certainly wasn't easily deterred, and instead of stumbling back, she laughed and wrapped herself around him, the hand slipping around toward his face and shoving the two seeds in his mouth when he tried to protest. He snatched her wrist quickly before she could squirm away, and then gave the hard things in his mouth a thoughtful chew.

A nod of approval followed – she had finally cooked something that wasn't absolutely terrible, which was quite an accomplishment for this apartment.

However, before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and nibbled on her thumb, quickly licking the salt from it in one sweep. He heard her breath hitch, which he found immensely satisfying, and proceeded to repeat his actions on the following two fingers. Max remained stock-still behind him, her head resting just over his shoulder. Once he finished, he turned his head slightly to the side, his voice low.

"I think I have a preference," he whispered, and he could literally feel the heat from her cheeks glowering against his.

She was absolute putty in his palm. If he had really tried, Loki was sure he could have had her right now.

"Max!" Tiffany called from the living room, which made both of them flinch out of their current position, "That commercial with the penguin is on again!"

Max tugged her hand away and left without another word, though he was sure she would pause and collect herself before rejoining her friends.

Ugh, what was he doing? He rolled his eyes and shook his head, banishing those thoughts from his mind. Loki leaned forward and kicked the door closed gently with his foot, and then brought his head down to rest on the top of his textbook.

His roommate may have been tempting, but that was dangerous territory he ought not to tread on just yet. She was his only real connection to this place, and the only thing that kept him thriving – Loki wasn't about to tamper with that.

He groaned noisily, and then shoved another pumpkin seed in his mouth. Perhaps it was time for a shower...

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**LOL. **

**So this wasn't how I expected the chapter to go in the slightest bit… It was originally going to be all a Max POV, and then this gem popped into my head as I was writing, and I went with it. I figured Loki experiences all human feelings stronger right now because he isn't used to them – he eats a lot, is susceptible to alcohol, and will also probably need some of his needs satisfied in a way that wasn't necessary when he was a god.**

… **I think I like to make him suffer. **

**If I had combined this chapter with the part one, it would have been over 10,000 words – longest chapter I've ever written for FF. Wooooo. **

**I made a cute little playlist for this series – the link is on my homepage. Some songs are inspirations for chapters – **_**Run to You**_** was the inspiration for the beer pong tournament, and **_**Dr. Jones**_** was recently added thanks to the last chapter. Some songs are how I view Max and Loki's relationship – **_**Shake It Out**_** is a particularly strong one. Others are just sort of linked with the feelings I associated with this fic. I'm sure I'll add more at some point. **

**Also, can you believe we're 15 chapters in? I can't. **

**Thank you all for the wave of reviews that come with each chapter – they make me humble and loving. I really appreciate all the support! **


	16. The King and his Warrior Princess

Max had been on cloud nine for ages. Not only was it her favourite time of year, but she was fairly sure her roommate was actually into her. After all, she hadn't been the one sucking salt off of _his_ fingers after a day filled with flirting at the pumpkin patch – therefore, Max decided that he must have some sort of interest in her. Loki spent the rest of his night in his room, and she assumed then that the patch had been a bit overwhelming for him, and in all honesty, she preferred it. If he had rejoined the group, she wouldn't have been able to function all that well. Ben and the rest of the gang were there until about midnight, flaked out in front of the TV munching on roasted pumpkin seeds and watching terrible television with her. When they finally left, Max crawled into bed and spent the better part of an hour analyzing _everything_ that had happened between her and Loki that day, including the things she had said to Tiff.

Was she lying to herself at this point to say that she had no real feelings for him? Was it just a physical reaction to an attractive guy flirting with her? What was it all supposed to mean? Would it be awkward the following morning – and the rest of the time they were living together? There had been a lot to consider at the time, and Max ended up falling asleep with Loki on the brain, which brought about another unfortunate sex dream involving him, a scarecrow, and stocks of corn.

Awkward.

However, when the two of them came face to face the following morning over the kitchen island, there was no discomfort. In fact, they both carried on normally as though nothing had happened, and although Max ended up feeling a little disappointed, she quickly realized it was probably for the best. After all, who wants unnecessary drama with the person who is sharing one's house? No one. No one needs to deal with issues or insecurities of someone else, and she couldn't expect Loki to respond in any sort of way just because she had questions. Max wasn't necessarily the most outgoing when it came to starting up romantic relationships with men, and normally she expected them to make the first move because she didn't want to make an idiot of herself. Better him than her, she always thought. Besides, Loki seemed like the type of guy who would have done something just to get a rise out of people, so maybe he had done it to see her reaction.

Whatever his intentions might have been, Max forced herself to ignore the incident and carry on, business as usual, into the following weeks. There were a lot of assignments due for just about everyone, graduate and undergraduates alike, and she breezed through two midterms in the span of a week. Stress was at an all-time high, but she usually calmed down after spending a night sprawled out on the couch having a laugh with her roommate over whatever might be on the TV, or something comical that happened at work. Loki seemed to be getting into a groove with school and the bookstore, though he had to work a little less in order to keep up with his assignments and studying for midterms. As far as she was aware, he had made a small dent in his debt to the bank, but he was far from out of the hole he had already dug himself. It seemed work was definitely a huge necessity for the man, but he had yet to seem too fazed by it.

Like every other person at St. Judith's, Max and Loki endured their midterms, scrambled to finish assignments, and breathed a collective sigh of relief when it all came to an end. With those out of the way, they would be safe until the winter exams, which were really only a month and a half away – a chance to get your head above water before plunging straight back in. With everything finished for now, Max was extra excited for their Halloween plans, which were only a few days away. On the night of the pumpkin patch visit, Tiffany had asked if they could host the Halloween pre-drink at Max's apartment. Ben's house had gotten some noise complaints from the last party, and they really just needed a place that was a straight walk down to the bars to drink at before celebrating downtown. After consulting with her roommate, Max agreed to host the pre-drink with the stipulations that they had to be out of the apartment by eleven thirty, or they were bound to get a complaint from the elderly couple who lived upstairs.

They were lucky that Halloween fell on a Friday this year, and Max forced Loki to book it off from work so that he could join in the festivities. He didn't seem especially keen to partake in another party, but she insisted that this was a _pre-drink_, not a party. People would show up, get the majority of their drinking done, nibble on some snacks, and then head downtown. It wasn't the place to be – no one had to attend a pre-drink in order to have a good time down at the bars with everyone. Tiffany had invited a few people that they all knew would be there, and then extended the offer to some of their friends on the outer circle who were welcome to drop by for a little while if they felt so inclined. This wasn't going to be a big deal.

However, the only other stipulation that Tiffany and Max decided on was that everyone had to be there in costume. They didn't need to be elaborate sorts of outfits that cost way too much for one night of use, but if they wanted to get into her apartment, they needed to be in some sort of noticeable costume. Obviously Loki did not have a costume of his own, so Max had the dubious honour of taking him shopping for one a few days before Halloween. She knew they ought to have gone earlier in the month, as all the good costumes were bound to be sold out, but she had an idea for him that did not necessarily require a pre-made costume in a bag.

So, Max ended up picking Loki up on campus after his media lecture, and the two of them zoomed off in her slightly messy car toward the costume shop at the other side of town. It was usually only open for two months of the year, and the rest of the time it was a dollar store.

"So… Everyone dresses up on this night?" Loki clarified as they pulled into the parking lot. She glanced toward him and saw him wrinkle his nose at the excessive amount of balloons outside the party store. "I still don't understand it."

"Well, the dressing up used to be so that you could scare the dead away," Max assumed, seeing as almost everything that people did for Halloween revolved around keeping the rising dead at bay, "but now it's sort of just a tradition that kids do… We go door to door trick-or-treating for candy from the neighbours."

"Why?"

"Okay, I can't explain every single custom we do," Max laughed when she turned the car off, shooting him a look as she grabbed for her purse in the backseat. "We do it, we've always done it, and it's fun. Now that we're older, we get dressed up because we're nostalgic, but get plastered because we're legal. Sound good?"

"We'll see," she heard him grumble.

"Stop moping," she ordered playfully, giving his arm a light punch as she pulled back. His charming grin took away the seriousness from his face, and she rolled her eyes a little.

It was still difficult to tell when he was playing with her and when he was actually annoyed with something. However, his surly attitude hadn't been present for long, and as he strolled alongside her, hands in his pockets and eyes on the garish store looming ahead, Max figured the attitude was mostly for show. After all, what kind of guy actually enjoyed shopping, even if it was for a costume?

Once inside, she grabbed a small shopping cart, and then honed in on the men's section of the store. She wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to be yet, but she had decided on Loki's costume a long time ago, and she was keen to see her vision come to life.

"You've yet to fill me in on your ideas for my… costume," Loki told her as he sauntered along after her, hands clasped behind his back, eyes roving the aisles of costume bags.

"Okay, so I don't know how much you remember from our first night of heavy drinking," Max started, pausing in front of a set of bright red capes.

"It's a bit of a haze."

"Right, well, I remember somebody saying he wanted to be a king when he grows up," she laughed, crouching down and retrieving a plastic golden crown from a pile. "So, we're making you a king for Halloween."

His eyes narrowed a little at her as she stood up on the tips of her toes to place the plastic crown on his head, and she grinned up at him happily. Their bodies were close, closer than a platonic friendship would allow, but for the first time she hadn't started blushing. It probably had to do with the fact that she suspected there was some reciprocal attraction on his end – he did crack a bit of a smile in return, after all, before placing himself in front of a nearby mirror.

"No."

"Why not?" she whined, bouncing over to his side and smirking at him. "We'll make you all regal and shit."

"Your eloquence is reassuring," he droned, head cocked to the side as he stared at his crown, "but I think not."

"Well, I mean, we could put you in…" she trailed off as she looked around at the costumes nearby, and then grabbed one off of the shelf, "A cow suit? I think it would be big enough to fit… Who doesn't want udders?"

"This is ridiculous," he scoffed, snatching the crown off his head and shoving it back into her hands. "I'm not doing this."

"Come on, be a good sport," Max pushed. "How about this? I will try on any costume in this store if you let me put together a king's costume."

His eyebrows shot up, and the tension in his voice seemed to lessen, "Any costume?"

Max cleared her throat, realizing that might have put herself in a stupid situation. However, if he took the bargain, she could dress him up however she wanted, put a crown on his head, and then call him a king. So, she nodded, "Any costume."

"Deal."

They shook hands quickly, and then set off in opposite directions to have a look through the store. He actually seemed more pleased with the bargain than she had anticipated, which made her a little worried.

It actually wasn't very difficult to find Loki's costume; the big items that made the look were all sold separately, and she was sure he would have a black pair of pants to wear with it. First came the crown, which was bedazzled with green and blue plastic gems. Next, she found a red coat that looked regal enough to be a king's garment, but then quickly found another one shortly after with puffy sleeves and a gold trim, and opted for the slightly more expensive one in order to add realism. From there, she snatched up a white silk shirt with a deep V in the front, one that he would have to lace up, and then perused the super tacky jewelry section to jazz up the whole look. Once she had picked out several gaudy rings and a kingly necklace, she sauntered toward the back of the store where they held the dressing rooms, and then waited for Loki to find her.

When he did finally show up about ten minutes later, he had her costume behind his back, and there was a hugely suspicious bounce in his step that only spelled trouble for her. She cocked her head to the side, trying to see around him, and then placed a hand on her hip.

"What the Hell did you find?"

"Is Halloween a time for all women to dress like whores?" Loki inquired nonchalantly, "Because everything I saw suggests that…"

She took a deep breath, ready to launch into some speech about how not every woman out there threw on a pair of animal ears to jazz up lingerie, and then rolled her eyes, "_Yes_, we use it as an excuse to dress a little slutty… It's socially acceptable at this point."

Everyone knew the majority of women used Halloween as a chance to show off a little more skin, because when else were they going to without being called a slag? Max had done the slutty costume thing three times in her life: the first time was in high school when she went as a trashy Hogwarts student, the second was her first year of university when she wore a skin-tight black outfit to go as a cat, and the third was when she was dating her previous boyfriend – she was the slutty nurse and he the perverted doctor. Otherwise, the rest of her Halloween years had been interspersed with all sorts of costumes, ranging from extremely modest to extremely out there, and everything in between. Normally she put a lot more work into her costumes, but this year and the previous one had left her too busy, and she had to resort to purchasing something pre-made from the party store.

"I think I might like Halloween better than I anticipated," Loki chuckled, and then held out the costume he had chosen for her. Max felt her cheeks redden as she snatched it out of his hands.

"_What_ is this?"

"Apparently," he leaned a little closer, reading the label, "it's a Sexy Viking Warrior Princess costume. I think the fur goes with your eyes."

"You're a dick."

She studied the image on the front of the bag, and then shook her head, "I'm not wearing this."

"It was actually one of the more conservative options. I was thinking of you, Max."

"I'm _not_ wearing this," she repeated, staring at the image with mild disgust. There was no way this thing was going to look good on her, and a fairly big part of Halloween for her had always been about looking awesome in her costume.

"Ah, but you said _any_ costume," Loki argued, holding up a finger to protest her whining. "If you won't try it on, I won't wear your…" He leaned closer, "Is _that_ what you think a king wears?"

"My costume is awesome, shut up," she snapped. "I do not have the boobs for this dress!"

The woman in the picture seemed to have a chest that defied gravity, pushing itself out of the deep V neckline that plunged into a fake corset.

"How do you know until you try it on?" Loki trilled, stepping around her and gathering the various pieces of his kingly outfit from the shopping cart. "We'll do this together… Come along, Max."

She swore at him beneath her breath, which made him chuckle as he locked himself into one of the change rooms. Max gripped the thick plastic costume bag tightly as she stalked into the small room across from him, and then stared at the picture for a moment. Maybe she could pretend she tried it on, and it didn't fit, so he wouldn't need to see it. She glanced at the sizing, and then realized it was a one-size fits all type of deal – apparently sexy Viking princesses wore stretchy clothing. Lips pursed, she sighed noisily as she began to shed her outer layers of clothing.

Standing there in her bra and underwear, she glared at the smiling busy blonde on the bag, and then finally dragged the outfit out to examine. It was definitely short; the skirt was a V shaped thing, longer at the front and back then at the sides, and a supposed fitted corset sat above it. There was a fur trim on the short-sleeved shoulders, along with a pair of fur knee-high boot things that looked absolutely ridiculous. Finally, as the crème of the crop that this costume was, there was a furry hat with a pair of horns that stuck out on either side. At first, Max just wanted to laugh, but she also knew that Loki was putting in some sort of effort on his side, so she ought to do the same.

So, she slipped into the outfit, and she was surprised how fitted the material was considering it was supposed to fit all sizes. Maybe it fit all sizes, but it didn't fit them well. As she suspected, however, her boobs were not quite big enough to make much of an impact in the tan coloured top of the outfit, but it wasn't as terrible as she expected. It was definitely short though, showing off a lot of leg, and she suddenly recalled Loki's response to the This or That game about what sort of guy he was – a legs man.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling too much.

"Max," she heard Loki laugh, "this is atrocious."

"Yeah, well, yours isn't much better," she snapped, smoothing her hands down the faux-fur on her shoulders. She plopped the hat on her head, her brown hair hanging loose around her shoulders, and then braced herself. "Are you ready to show?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"My thoughts exactly," she muttered. His door unlocked noisily across from her, and Max decided she could get away with just poking her head out for now. Her eyes lit up when she saw Loki saunter out – he actually looked ridiculously attractive, and she eyed him appreciatively as he placed himself in front of the mirror. The look wasn't exactly complete, as he was wearing a pair of jeans instead of the black trousers, but she could see the essence of it.

"This is _not_ what a king wears," Loki told her. "You didn't even find me a weapon."

"We'll get one after," she insisted. "That's nothing… I saw some swords and stuff at the front. Does it all fit?"

"Unfortunately," he sighed as he ran his hands down the front of the plush red coat.

"You aren't wearing any of the rings!" Max realized. "We need the full effect!"

"This is quite enough for today," Loki remarked. "I'll wear everything you desire on the night."

"So you're going to go with it?" she asked happily, pleased that she had managed to change his mind.

"Only if you wear my pick," he told her quickly, pulling at the door. "Let me see."

Max begrudgingly stepped out, and then folded her arms across her chest as he appraised her. However, she felt moderately better when his eyes lingered at the hemline of her skirt.

"That hat is too much."

"Oh, you think?" she scoffed, booting him aside with her hips as she stood in front of the mirror. "I think it's just _darling_. I'm sure _every_ Viking had one in their… hut."

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of humour-"

"You read that in the paper this morning," she chirped, shooting him a look in the mirror.

"Well, I think it's quite…" he trailed off, eyes traveling down her backside. "It's quite nice."

"Quite nice?" she repeated, finally dropping her arms to reveal her chest, "I need padding, or something."

"No, no," he insisted, reaching around her and suddenly cupping his hands just beneath her breasts. "You just need to… push them up a little."

She stiffened a little as he pushed them upward, filling out the dress a tad better in the process. He smirked at her in the mirror, and she knew he was enjoying himself. So, she smacked his hands away and stepped forward, turning back to face him with her hands on her hips.

"_Fine_," she snapped, unable to keep from grinning at him, "I'll get it. You're buying it though."

"That's fair, seeing as you are purchasing this set of ridiculousness," Loki mused. He managed to dodge her when she took off the hat and tried to poke his side with one of white horns.

Once they were changed, they perused the containers with plastic weapons together, and in the end chose a rather long sword for Loki and a slightly unwieldy axe for Max. From there, it was off to the check-out counter to buy their costumes for one another. Loki's was a little more expensive than hers, but she figured it would be with the lined red coat racking up the big bucks. With all that sorted, they collectively decided to pick up a pizza for dinner on the way home, as Loki needed to be back on campus to work in two hours, and neither felt like cooking.

"Oh my god, hey guys!"

Max cringed a little as a familiar voice cut across the parking lot at them, and she watched Erica bounce over from her group of friends to greet the duo at Max's car.

"Hey Erica," Max sighed, hoping that her lack of enthusiasm wasn't completely obvious. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know, same old," the woman replied with a shrug. "Did you guys do some shopping?"

She eyed the bags curiously, and Loki simply stared back at her.

"Yeah," Max said finally after a moment of silence. "Yeah, we just grabbed our costumes. I'm a Viking this year…"

"Oh, fun!" Erica laughed. "And what you about, Loki? What can I expect to see you as Friday night?"

"I'm a king, actually," Loki remarked, holding his bag protectively at his side. "Very exciting, and all that."

"What a fitting costume," Erica told him, and Max rolled her eyes when Loki smirked a little. "I think royalty suits you."

"Oh?"

"And what are you for Halloween?" Max asked before Erica could completely exclude her from the conversation.

"That's a surprise," she told Max, tucking a piece of hair behind her ears, "but all I can say is that it's heavenly. I'm picking up the finishing touches today."

"Are you an angel?"

"Most days, yeah," she laughed, shooting Loki a wink. "I'll see you guys Friday night!"

Vomit. Max waved farewell, and then rolled her eyes again, "She's so cryptic… 'Heavenly'? _Clearly_ an angel."

"Walk it off, sport," Loki told her in the false American accent he had been working on for some stupid reason most of the week.

It may have sounded awful, but it always made her laugh, and she grinned cheekily at him as they strolled back to the car. Once inside, they launched immediately into a conversation about what sorts of toppings they wanted on their pizza, Erica completely forgotten.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**This wasn't originally going to be a chapter, but it worked out nicely and it was longer than I expected, so I've decided to separate it into its own piece. The anticipated Halloween chapter is next, and I'm ridiculously excited to get started. It's all planned, so I'll get to work on it soon!**

**Here's a brief thing about what's happening with me in the upcoming months that will have some influence on updates – I'm starting my fourth year at uni next week, so things will slow down quite a bit. This story is basically all planned and thought out, however, so I suspect it will still either have a weekly or a bi-weekly update. I'm also working on a short novel (if 50,000 words is short) for a romance publishing company that accepts drafts from writers without agents. It's really exciting, and they put a prompt up online that is due by mid-October… So who knows if they will take what I write and publish it, but by the end of this year I might actually have some work out there! So, with that in mind, I'll be working on that pretty heavily to get it all done and finalized, so updates may suffer a tad with that too, seeing as I only just really got started after a recent discovery.**

**Back to the story! I wuv Max and Loki's relationship at the moment… They seem like good buds with that clear romantic attraction present, but you still don't quite know how deep it runs and if it's on both sides. In my head, I like that when I write scenes, I can picture them suddenly wildly making out and it would actually kind of be acceptable at this point… It's exciting. They are one of my favourite couples thus far! ... and it only gets more scandalous from here!  
**

**K. Enough rambling. Much love to all the reviewers, list adders, and secret lurkers. I do really appreciate the support and feedback – you guys make my achy wrists worth it! Love! **


	17. 1 Tequila, 2 Tequila, 3 Tequila, Whore

"I can't believe you wouldn't bring this straight to me, Stark-"

"Really?" Tony inquired lightly, eyebrows shooting up as he eyed the highly unimpressed S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in front of him, "This is a surprise to you?"

The man glared at him, and he heard Pepper murmur his name softly from the couch to his left. Seriously, what was it with Fury's agents? Couldn't they understand that the private quarters of the nearly destroyed Stark Tower was just that – private? First Coulson had come bumbling through, overriding security procedures and inviting him to take place in an event that would forever shape Iron Man's place in world history. Now, his replacement, known only as Agent 22, had actually managed to temporarily disable Jarvis and stroll through the lobby unmonitored, and eventually ended up interrupting his evening with Pepper once again. If they were nothing else, S.H.I.E.L.D. field agents definitely knew how to mess up a guy's good time with his gal.

Tony quickly decided that he would have much rather had Phil Coulson saunter out the elevator than the asshole who had replaced him. He had only heard of Agent 22 through the company grapevine, but he was apparently ex-military with highly superior fighting skills, but clearly lacked the candour required to carry his position as Fury's number two. Or number three. Where did Agent Hill fit in with all this? Regardless, he seemed instantly ill-suited for the job, and was clearly less than impressed to be making house calls.

Well, Tony shared the sentiment, asshole. Here he was, celebrating the fact that his tower now had its roof fully restored, which was supposed to be a quiet night in with his girl and a bottle of red. He definitely wasn't in the mood to deal with surly agents who were clearly so far up their own ass that they couldn't think straight.

"How long have you been tracking the warlord?"

"Don't talk like that," Tony told him, arms folding across his chest as he stared down his nose at the burly beefcake in front of him. "You're not one of them… Loki is just another guy who broke the law. Mind you, it was pretty severe-"

"Manhattan is still mostly in rubble."

"Well, that's a fairly poor statement, but I guess I can see your thought train," he droned. Clearly Agent 22 hadn't walked more than six feet from his building, because most of Manhattan was fixed at this point. "He's a criminal. Don't glorify the guy into making him more than he is."

"Don't downplay the seriousness of this situation, Stark," the agent ordered gruffly. He then lifted the file that had been tucked under his arm and scanned it, "Now, according to the information we received from Banner-"

"Bruce told you?" he asked, eyebrows shooting up once more, "No, Bruce wouldn't have told you… Did you bug his apartment again?"

The man shot him another annoyed look, and Tony smirked a little.

"The warlord Loki has been in Vermont attending a community college," Agent 22 recited, "and both you and Banner have completed surveillance, yet you haven't discussed it with Fury."

"Speaking of Fury, why isn't he making this house call?" Tony asked curiously, ignoring the way Pepper sighed at his contempt. "I feel like we'd both be happier if Fury was here instead of you."

"Why didn't you bring Loki's presence to our attention immediately?"

"Because _we_ can handle him," Tony droned finally. "His big brother… the other Norse god? Yeah, we're pretty good pals at this point… We've even done the drinks and bowling thing together, me, Pepper, him and his lady friend. So I assumed bringing Loki's _presence_ to him would have been better than if we notified you."

"Oh? And how did that go for you?"

"Thor was already aware that Loki was on Earth," he told the man. "He's apparently stripped of his powers as punishment for… playing rough with Manhattan."

The agent remained stoic, clearly unimpressed with Tony's reasoning, and he merely shrugged in response.

"Look, it seemed like a family thing," he continued. "When Bruce and I saw that he wasn't doing anything other than going to class, we backed off. We've still got surveillance in town, and we've gone into his roommate's computer for extra insurance."

"Is his roommate someone we should be aware of?"

"No, she's a nobody," Tony insisted, eager to keep innocent civilians out of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s grasp, "just an average college kid who is in some museum program. She's got a brother in the army though."

"Do you think there's a connection?"

"No, not that we saw," he continued. "It seems more random than anything."

"Give me the name of the town," the agent demanded, pulling out a pen and arching an eyebrow expectantly.

"No."

"Stark, don't bullshit around with me on this."

"No, here's where I draw the line with bullshit," Tony started, eyes narrowing as he took a step toward the taller gentleman in the cheap suit. "You come into my home, place illegal surveillance in my friend's apartment, and make demands that are not your call to make. If Fury really wants to know the basics on Loki, he can take it up with his brother. I'm keeping an eye on it, and I can be out there in ten minutes if the guy throws a tantrum."

"He's a deceptive god-"

"There's a ten dollar word."

"-and the fact that you believe whatever his brother says shows me just how deluded you've become. Thor may have helped us with _one_ incident, but he is still responsible for destroying an entire town _and _bringing Loki's madness here in the first place."

Tony scoffed noisily, and then pointed back toward the elevator, "Get out of my tower, or I'll put on the suit."

"I'd like to see that."

"I can get the police here in a matter of minutes," Pepper said suddenly. "Don't think we aren't above pressing charges for trespassing. You can use your one phone call to hope Fury will come post bail."

"If he even answers the phone," Tony added. "He's a hard man to get in touch with when _you_ want him… or so I've heard. I don't know, we've never met officially."

The man ground his jaw together noisily, and then stalked back to the elevator without another word. However, despite the fact he had given in easily today, Tony was fairly sure this wasn't going to be the last time they saw him or his cronies lurking around. Once the elevator doors shut, he glanced back at Pepper, who was taking a sip of her red wine. He held a finger to his lips, slipping into his own thoughts, until he finally heard her speak softly once more.

"I think it's time we get Banner back into his room here," she told him. Tony nodded; he couldn't agree more.

* * *

Loki had decided very quickly that he actually really liked this Halloween holiday. It might have all been a bit of fun for Max and her friends now, but he could easily appreciate the dark undertones and the history that surrounded it. He liked the idea of the dead coming back to life, as though brought up by a necromancer for one night of horror and fun, and then the notion that these little humans adorn themselves in costumes to frighten them away.

Pah! As though the dead could be frightened by what modern humans wore – Max might have been a warrior, but he was fairly sure any creature, dead or alive, would rather bend her over the table than engage in a serious form of combat with her. There were other aspects to the tradition that he found entertaining. He was eager to see little children dashing from door to door, demanding candy lest the occupants face getting tricked. It was actually right up his alley, and if he hadn't been preoccupied with Max's festivities, he would have liked to watch the mayhem ensue in the residential areas of the town.

However, he was slated to spend the evening with Max and her friends, and that was what he intended to do. After all, the woman was bouncing around the house all day, giddy with excitement, and he was sure he would have popped her bubble quite severely if he wasn't in attendance. So, although it had been a wordless promise, Loki dragged himself out of his room after a brief nap in the late afternoon, and then begrudgingly helped put candy and chips out into bowls around the kitchen island. Max had also stopped somewhere that afternoon to pick up a plethora of alcohol. Some of the bottles were given to Loki, as she had noticed he was out, some went directly to her, and the remainder were to be shared among guests who did not bring their own that night. Quite the courteous hostess, Max was, and Loki was a tad eager to see what a "pre-drink" entailed. If it was anything like the party at Ben's, it was going to be loud, crowded, and a little rowdy.

Loki had been in this little town for just over two months at this point, and if he had been antsy about leaving back in September, he was _definitely_ eager to regain his powers now. He had been playing by the rules thus far; he worked a job to serve lowly mortals their textbooks, studied under intellectuals who would have paled in comparison to him in any other circumstance, and made a real effort to try to connect with simpletons who were supposedly in his age group. Hadn't the All-father seen the work he put in? Hadn't Odin been paying the slightest bit of attention to the fact that Loki was out working at a terrible job almost six nights of the week in order to pay back a debt on a planet that was only his temporary host? At this point, he wasn't really sure what else he could do, nor was he sure just how long Odin planned to make him suffer, but it was getting a little excessive. Thor certainly hadn't been on Earth this long!

Now, it wasn't all terrible. He was actually interested in Ludwick's subject matter, almost as much as he was keen on impressing the man himself. After all, it taught him a great deal about the planet he had wanted to shatter, which, in its own way, was useful. Perhaps he would come back sometime in the future, years and years from now, to try to snatch the planet up. When all of Thor's heroes were dead and the world was at a different place in its cycle, Loki could try again to make it his. Thor would still be around, and his lust for a kingly position would surely remain.

Kingly position… What a joke this night was as he sat on a large chair that Tiffany had brought over, dressed in a king's attire. He wasn't really sure which king dressed like this, all bejeweled and glittery, but Loki assumed this must be a caricature of a human king. He appreciated Max telling him that the crown suited him, and she surely had no idea what those words meant to him on a much more profound level. One day he would be king once more, the crown and throne he deserved at his feet, and he would remember Max's words about how he had a head shaped for a crown.

Ah, Max. He wasn't really sure what he was doing with her, but he blamed his human body and its hormones _entirely_ for the shameless way he had been acting. Yes, he did enjoy making her blush, and on some level it brought about a deep satisfaction that there was this woman here who had such obvious attraction for him. Here she was, interested in him, and he wasn't even at his full capabilities – she seemed to adore him in his weakness, which was a strange thought. How would she see him if he was fully restored to his original state? Max would probably melt.

Unfortunately, it wasn't just Max who felt curdles of desire in the pit of her stomach. Loki's need to copulate with just about anyone at this point had reached critical levels, and it was fairly difficult to stay focused while he and Max got into their costumes before the arrival of her friends. The legs, the waist, the breasts… _Everything_ on her was a distraction, and the fact that she wanted him only made the need grow stronger. There was nothing more appealing than interacting with someone who was obviously in a state of attraction toward him; it was an infrequent occurrence on Asgard, particularly when he was always compared to Thor, and it was even more difficult to resist here on Midgard.

Mind you, there were _a lot _of women here that he found difficult to resist. As Max's friends filtered in and out for the pre-drink, Loki was amazed at how much female flesh he saw. Max had hinted that it was a night for most women to drop their inhibitions, to be free in the guise of another, but he hadn't expected to see so many of them in barely-there costumes and skin-tight suits. He couldn't have been the only one who appreciated the show, and he felt some form of relief when he studied the eyes of the other men circulating the party: most of them ended up fixating on the same bits and pieces that caught Loki's attention. They all seemed to handle themselves better than Loki, mind you, but that was probably because they had more experience dealing with half-dressed women on October 31st – clearly more experience than Loki, to say the least. He worked very hard to keep his gaze at eyelevel, and his hands were always either in a chip bowl or wrapped around a bottle of alcohol.

He certainly did not want to make a fool of himself, but the urges were telling. The more these women had to drink, the looser they seemed to feel, and Loki couldn't help but bite his inner cheek – hard – when he spotted Max laughing and grinding her hips into Tiffany's across the room, moving to the beat of some obnoxious tone emanating from her music player. It all seemed to be for fun, naturally, but Loki decided that the sexual nature of this night did nothing to help his desires. So, after finishing what might have been his third or fourth beer in under an hour, he drifted back to the bathroom in order to recuperate.

The apartment had guests scattered everywhere, dominating the small space in a way he hadn't ever seen it used before. Although Max and Loki had the good sense to lock their rooms, Loki still had to step around and over a couple dressed in neon colours – who had earlier proclaimed to be highlighters – as they groped one another up against Max's door. Once inside the bathroom, Loki bolted the door and then leaned down against the white porcelain sink, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like a joke. His lip twitched as he tore the crown from his head and hurled the plastic piece into the shower, glaring as it clattered noisily in the tub. He forced himself to take a deep breath; tonight was supposed to be a bit of fun, a way to relieve oneself from the ridiculousness of the college experience. So, although it would have been easier to succumb to anger, Loki pushed through. He washed his face quickly, and then smoothed his hair down in order to make room for his crown once more.

When he returned to the main attraction, Loki found that several of the previous guests he had seen before had left, only to be replaced by newcomers. He lingered around a chip bowl for quite some time, striking up a conversation with Ben about Norse mythology after Loki made a casual comment regarding Max's costume.

"She looks lovely tonight, doesn't she?" Loki had said, gesturing across the room toward Max as Garret twirled her in a circle.

Ben's face had gone bright red, and he coughed a little into his drink as he nodded.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Really good. It's not what I expected at all."

"Well, that's half the fun, isn't it?" Loki had mused at him, grinning as Ben had tried very hard not to stare at his roommate's legs.

"I guess so."

He still got a kick out of watching the man squirm about for his roommate's attention, and he was sure Ben found it equally difficult to focus on much else whenever Max flounced over to grab another drink. Loki _loved_ it. Ben had become his unofficial target ever since he was aware of the man's feelings for Max, and he got a huge kick out of watching him hem and haw over how to word things regarding her costume. Loki wasn't particularly sure what Ben was – he had said his house and their girlfriends dressed up like the cast of _Futurama_, but he couldn't quite place the television show in his memory. Ben was wearing a bald cap, a thick set of glasses, and then a white lab coat, all of which seemed oddly suited to his personality.

They eventually reached their inevitable stalemate in the conversation, a point that usually came up when Ben ran out of things to blabber about, and Loki had no more interest in speaking to him, and from there Loki drifted off to another bowl of food. He was on to what might have been his sixth or seventh beer at this point, and quickly decided that he preferred the ale to that clear disaster in a bottle that he and Max had chugged on their first night together. Although it had a pungent aftertaste, he decided it went down much easier than anything else he had been forced to drink. From now on, beer was his drink of choice. It had a mild effect on him, making his face tingle and the tips of his fingers numb, but he wasn't nearly as incoherent as those drinking the stronger scented drinks around him.

However, he was influenced enough to seriously consider making a move on Max tonight. Although she wasn't dressed in a way indicative of the people who worshipped him eons ago, there was a small part of him that appreciated the sentiment regardless. Besides, she was wearing something he had chosen for her, and whenever she glanced back in his direction, despite chatting with other men, Loki felt a satisfied smirk touch his lips.

Unfortunately, he was definitely aware of the complications that would arise should he bother to pursue Max; there was a chance things might go so sourly that she banished him from the apartment, and he would be forced to spend what little money he made on hotel fares while simultaneously trying to sort his life out. No, she might have been fun for a night, perhaps more, but he preferred her friendship and support to any of the messy complications that might arise should he act on his feelings tonight.

So, two steps in her direction quickly turned into four steps away from her, and he took a seat on an unused section of the sofa, downing the rest of his beer in one go. He sighed noisily, and then shut his eyes as he listened to the hum of music pounding around him. Music was so very telling of the values of this generation; everything was about love, sex, relationships, and betrayals. Naturally, it was all dramatized for value, but he thought it very interesting to hear the lyrics, no matter how repetitive, in order to further understand the people around him.

Suddenly, he felt his empty bottle leave his loosely clasped hands, only to be replaced by a cold one seconds later. His eyes opened quickly, and he glanced up to see a curvaceous Erica seated on the armrest next to him.

"You looked like you were running a little low on fuel, your highness," she told him, her arm sliding across the back of the couch as she leaned forward, head cocked to the side. "I thought I should fix that."

"Thank you," Loki murmured, toasting her with his bottle. "That was so very thoughtful."

"I'm not an angel for nothing," she giggled, gesturing down at the tight white dress hugging her ample curves. There was a curve bursting in his face at that very moment, and he swallowed hard, trying his very best to ignore them and not stare blatantly.

Oh, the woman was perfectly aware of what she was doing. Max had a distinct disliking for this Erica character, and Loki could understand why. It was very plain that the woman wanted to compete for Loki's attention, as though he were a prize to be won from Max, and always went out of her way to throw a jibe at Max while simultaneously complimenting Loki. She reminded him very much of Lorelei on Asgard; the goddess was a supreme flirt, and bounced around amongst other Asgardians on a whim, keen and willing to slake her lust wherever she saw fit. Even Loki had known the pleasure of her company, which was certainly saying something. Erica was nowhere near on par with Lorelei, but her game definitely wasn't all that different. She pursued Loki because it was obvious that someone else wanted him. He saw the look in her eye: lust, a feeling he had come to grapple with on a daily basis.

"When did you get here?" Loki inquired, knowing full well that Max hadn't seen her or wasn't in the room, because there was no way the woman would have left him alone with the temptress.

"Oh, only a few minutes ago," she purred, her breath pungent with the scent of alcohol, "but I had to find you right away."

"Of course you did," Loki chuckled as he did a quick sweep of the area around in, searching for Max. Surely she hadn't invited Erica or any of her friends to this little party…

"Hey, is there somewhere we can talk privately?" he heard her murmur in his ear. He quickly turned to face her, the woman's eyes meeting his, and she shrugged, "It's sort of loud out here."

"Yes, yes it is," he acknowledged, the look of need, desire, and desperation difficult to ignore on her face. "I have a room we could speak in."

"Good," she giggled, standing up and grasping his hand, tugging him along after her, "I just wanted to talk to you about something. It'll be quick, I promise."

Ha. He had a sinking suspicion anything that she wanted to do behind a closed door wasn't going to be quick, but at this point, he let that sickeningly human side of him take over. Perhaps when this was over, he might actually be able to concentrate on a conversation with Max without wondering what she would feel like beneath him, or sound like whimpering for him in the heat of a moment, her back arched, breasts pressed to his chest as she urged him onward…

He blinked the fantasy away, clearing his throat as he followed Erica through a cluster of people.

Loki glanced at her door when he passed it quickly, and caught her in the small crack where it had been left open. He saw her texting on her mobile device, mouthing along to the song blasting from the living room and swaying, clearly drunk. Erica tugged at him when he hesitated, but he eventually conceded, and shut the door to his room softly behind him.

* * *

"Nooo, Paaaat," Max trilled into her phone, "I won't do scary movies with anyone but yoooou!"

Good god, where had all the sober gone? Max had been fairly plastered since sometime in the early evening, and it seemed there was no stopping her at this point. This was the first time in nearly a month and a half since she had been this drunk, and she justified it briefly earlier in the night by insisting that it was Halloween, and therefore acceptable to let loose.

Tiffany and Garret turned up around six that evening to help her set things up, and she was actually pretty surprised that Loki had been as hands-on as he was. Along with setting up the food and drink sections of the kitchen island, he had even helped Garret lug an extra chair in from the parking lot that had been donated for people's sitting pleasure that evening.

With that all sorted, the couple popped back to Ben's in order to get ready, and Max spent an hour or so with Loki getting into costume. At this point, she had accepted that it was going to be another year where she was a provocative cliché, and endured her ridiculous Viking costume with grace. Hell, she even braided her hair and spoke with some terrible Norwegian accent for as long as Loki could tolerate her – which was helped along by her first drink for the evening while doing make-up. The focus then shifted on to Loki, and while she was able to get him to slick his hair back and wear every piece of jewellery she bought for him, he drew the line at her suggestion to add make-up.

All she wanted to do was add a little smoky eyeliner for affect… Geez.

Regardless of Loki's intolerance for make-up, he acted like such a good sport regardless, and they ended up having a fantastic evening together before everyone arrived. As far as she was concerned, almost everything he did indicated that he was interested in her. He flirted, touched, teased, laughed in all the right ways, and she would have had to be an idiot not to realize what was happening. Naturally, Max didn't say anything, nor did she behave any differently than she normally would. She wasn't all that good at making the first move, even if she was a bit of a flirt, so at this point the ball was in Loki's court; if he made a move, say, tonight, Max would hardly make any objections.

_Of course_ she might protest a little at first, she decided as people started to arrive for the pre-drink, but only enough to make him squirm a little, and then she would throw herself wholeheartedly into the act. Yum. Actually, that was probably the booze talking, but fuck it. She was physically attracted to her roommate, and she was lucky enough that he happened to be a cool guy. A great guy. A fantastic- Okay, whatever, he was nice guy. Whatever. Don't make a big deal out of it.

Although there had been a few members of the outer friendship circle to arrive first, Max was able to make pointless conversation about safe subjects until Tiffany returned with her troupe of boys from Ben's house. They had all worked together and come as the cast of _Futurama_ – Garret as Fry, Tiffany as Leela, Ben as Professor Farnsworth, and Corey as Bender – and even though it took a little bit of imagination to see where some of them were coming from, she thought they did such a great job. As a reward, she gave them one of her bottles of alcohol, free of charge, as winners of the costume contest for her heart. From there, it went straight downhill as far as sobriety went. Tiffany was a pro at peer-pressuring her friends into taking more shots than they needed to; she had such an infectious laugh and zest for life that it was hard to even consider being a downer by turning down her offers to drink.

She wasn't really sure how many people were going to swing by that night, but in all honesty, she didn't really care. They were going to be out of there by eleven-thirty, which meant people could come and go as they pleased up until that point, and then the apartment was going to be silent. She had gone around and warned the people beside her and above her that they would be having a party, that it might get a little noisy between eight and eleven-thirty, and then they were out of there not one minute later. The neighbours to the side were also students, and were drinking somewhere else for the evening, but appreciated the invite all the same. The older couple above seemed less than thrilled at the prospect, but they also knew she wasn't as disrespectful as some students could be, and told her they understood the impending noise, so long as it ended at a reasonable hour.

No noise complaints or fines for her, thank you very much!

Drinks, music, laughter, chips, and oodles of candy were the general patterns for her night. Every so often, she would look for Loki through the mass of people, and she would find him chatting with someone, sipping his beer, or grazing over a bowl of chips. He seemed more comfortable than she had anticipated, and she actually felt little to no stress at spending more time that night with her small cluster of close friends instead of babysitting him. She also managed to keep her distance respectful because even her drunk brain was quite aware that she might pounce on him in front of everyone, and while it would have been fun for her, it would have been a bit embarrassing to talk about it the next day. Guhh.

At around eleven that night, people slowly began filtering out to make the cold trek down to the bars without their jackets. Well, okay, the girls did it because they wanted their costumes noticed – or they were too drunk to feel the chill of the near-November air – and the guys layered up because they weren't held to the same standards as their female counterparts. At this point, she was on her second tequila shot with Ben, who was actually pretty relaxed when he was plastered. His household lingered, waiting for Max and Loki to lock up so that they could all make the trip to their bars together. Aside from them, there was a drunk girl sitting by Max's front door, her friends squawking about calling for a taxi, and then a couple who she didn't know groping one another on her couch. Otherwise, they were doing pretty good for time.

A phone call had dragged her off to her room – a celebratory drunk call from Pat in New York – and she was thrilled to hear her voice.

"You should watch movies with Loki," her best friend purred into the phone. Max heard music pumping in the background, followed by a sudden bout of laughter, and she smiled at the thought of Pat having an awesome evening, just like she was.

"Maybe after the bar-"

"After you _do it_!"

Max snorted loudly, and then glanced at his closed door from the safety of her room.

"I dunno, Pat, I… I… I'm wearing fur tonight."

"Me too!"

"Oh my god!"

The conversation that followed would be fairly hazy for both women, but it generally consisted of the basic elements of their costumes, followed by the trio of boys who were vying for Pat's attention at a party that night. They eventually trailed off discussing the merits of certain types of fast foods after a night of drinking, and Max accidentally pressed the 'end' button on her phone with her face halfway through a sentence. However, that barely even registered in her drunken mind, and she toddled back out to the living room as though nothing had happened.

She stumbled a little, but eventually came to a halt by the kitchen island. Ben was seated on one of the stools, and she threw an arm around his thin shoulders as she studied her living room through slightly glossy eyes. During the phone call, the drunk girl and her friends had managed to find a taxi to take them home – which must have been a miracle, because there were a grand total of six taxis in this town, and all of them must have been busy tonight. The drunk couple were currently throwing coats and shoes on, her trailing after him in her little scandalous maid's costume. With that sorted, it was down to her, Corey, Tiffany, Garret, and Ben, and, of course, Loki. She hadn't seen him in a little while, and she hoped he hadn't just gone to bed while he was drunk.

"Why don't we jus' go?" Tiffany suggested lightly from her new spot on the sofa. Max watched with avid fascination as she readjusted the single eye that she had constructed for her costume, and it took her a second to remember that it wasn't real.

"Let me get L-Loki, and then we can go," Max insisted, holding up a finger for them to wait. She felt Ben wrap his arm around her waist to keep her from moving.

"Maybe he can just meet us there?"

"No, wait two seconds," Max demanded, pushing him off her and teetering off toward his room. She was in no mood for Ben and his weirdness tonight – if anyone was going to hit on her, it was her roommate.

She vaguely heard Tiffany call for her, but the alcohol made her have a one-track mind as she narrowed in on Loki's door, which she ended up stumbling into. As she fell, her hand turned the knob unintentionally, and she ended up swinging straight into Loki's room. Her eyes immediately found Loki in a highly compromising position: an angel on her knees in front of him, pants down to his ankles, his hand in her hair while the other gripped his bedpost, eyes closed and head back, completely relaxed. However, that composure certainly didn't last, and when she apologized profusely, as much as her drunken mouth could formulate, his eyes flew open and he yanked the girl off.

"Oh my god, knock much?!" she heard Erica shout as Max fumbled to get the door closed, still apologizing as quick as possible.

Once closed, she stood with her back pressed against his door, her face bright red and her heart racing. Both hands still gripped his doorknob, and she waited for a second to see if he might come after her, perhaps offer an explanation. However, silence followed her departure, and Max stumbled off toward the bathroom shortly thereafter, locking herself inside. Before she knew it, she was seated on the toilet and crying.

She felt so stupid. All of those feelings, all of those thoughts she had obsessed over with Loki for ages now had been for nothing. _Clearly_ he had no interest in her, otherwise he might have gone to her if he wanted to fool around! He just needed someone, anyone, to get his rocks off, and apparently Max didn't even rate for that. It was just then, in that very moment, that she realized she actually had genuine feelings for the man – why else would she be silently bawling into a towel in a Viking costume? It definitely wasn't just a physical attraction, and it hadn't developed because she actually got along with Loki… Yes, those may have been integral features, but it was now blatantly obvious that Max had developed genuine, deep feelings for her roommate, and they had just been trampled on in the span of twenty seconds.

Seriously, with _Erica_ of all people?! She sniffled loudly as she leaned against the back of the toilet. Max felt absolutely ridiculous. She felt like the King of the Idiots for letting herself fall for a guy that was unattainable and clearly not interested in her as anything more than a friend. After all the flirting, the touching, the glances, Max had been naïve enough to think that it actually meant something to Loki, that she factored above all the other women out there in his books. Clearly, she was wrong. Clearly, she had made a stupid mistake.

Fuck.

Now, she couldn't let this ruin her evening. She may have wanted to do nothing more than march into his room and shout at him for stomping all over her feelings, but she wouldn't. Fuck him. And fuck Erica. _They_ could fuck if they wanted to! Max glared at her reflection in the mirror as she tried to fix her make-up. Fuck him for not coming to explain. Fuck him for not locking his door. Her lip quivered once more, wobbling under the threat of more tears, but she simply wiped her face down with some make-up removing wipes, and then forcefully – and drunkenly – told herself to get on with the night. _Fuck_ him!

She hated the sound of pity in Tiffany's voice when she rejoined her friends.

"I saw them go in a while ago," her friend slurred. "Fuck him… Let's jus' go!"

"Yeah," she stammered, forcing a smile. "Boot n' rally!"

"I don't think that's really the right context to use that," Ben insisted, and she gave him a smack on the top of his bald cap.

"Carry me to the bars, professor!" she ordered sloppily, turning him around and leaping up onto his back before he could agree or disagree.

"Is Loki coming?" Corey asked, fingers clacking away at his phone.

"Don't care," Max insisted firmly as she pointed at the door. "He c'n find his own fucking way there."

Her friends eyebrows shot up curiously, but she ignored them as Ben barreled his way toward the door.

Fuck him.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**K. CALM DOWN. **

**Are we calm? Not yet. Okay. Calm down more. **

**Right, good. Not all couples have this rosy relationship that is instantaneous. Even if there is a mutual attraction, people still don't get to their person right away, and although this is a light, fluffy, fun story for Loki and Max, I like their tortured wuv. I did make good on my promise – there was sexuality in this chapter, and Max realized she's got more than just a crush on her roommate. This is the kickstart to their drama and romance, really, so stay tuned, because – spoiler alert – it continues to grow from here!**

**YEAY STARK. I thought the idea of a double date between Jane and Thor with Tony and Pepper seemed awesome, so that got snuck in there. Awesome and maybe a little awkward too… but hey, that's the theme of this story – fun times with super awkward stuff spaced in there. I actually started getting into the comics for Marvel, and have recently ordered several Loki ones to peruse through. I think I can get a better feel for their underlying characters. Banner and Stark are a bit different in the comics too, so I'm trying to mix movie personas with comic influences… It's a grand ol' time. **

**Also, I secretly want people to go as the cast of **_**Futurama**_** for Halloween now. Do it. **

**Yeay drunk reasoning for Max! I think it's a whole whirl of emotions at the moment, and it won't really be coherent what she's feeling precisely until she has no more alcohol in her system. I was pretty pumped to write this chapter, but when I got to Max's part, it was such a slow type because I was not keen on hurting her feelings. Poor dumpling. I feel bad. … but only a little. Loki's feeling are a bit harder for me to express, but he'll get a chance to explain his slutty ways soon!  
**

**This might be the last update for a week or so… Same issues as the last chapter: novella, school starting, and updating my other stories before classes. Yeay!**

**Much love to all my loyal reviewers! I wub all you deeply! Don't abandon me because of a backward move in the relationship… We just getting' started, sucka! **

… **Anyway. Much love!**


	18. Some guys

Max managed to wake up before her phone's alarm Monday morning, and glared at its stupid beeping screen until the shrieking volume finally forced her to turn it off. She sighed noisily, and then stared up at her bedroom ceiling, unable to make herself move to get out of bed. At this point, she needed a shower, but doing so left her open to uncomfortable confrontations with her roommate, so she decided to wait until she knew he wasn't home.

Ugh.

So, the rest of her Halloween night had been a bit of disaster. After she made Ben carry her all the way to the bar, she had to prove to the bouncers that she wasn't drunk enough yet to come in, which turned into some unnecessarily serious ordeal that ended up with her group of friends heading elsewhere for the night. They hit up a livelier club instead, surrounded by twenty-year olds who were just celebrating their first beer illegally – or so it seemed – and Max immediately had the group do tequila shots to celebrate the holiday. Mistake of epic proportions.

She was already pretty wasted by the time she got to the club, and tequila was just the drink to set her over the edge. Sloppy dancing on tables, shot drinking, and slurred speaking ensued. At some point in the morning, Max found herself alone with Ben, who was also drunk, but she realized later that he definitely was _not_ as hammered as she was. From what she could piece together, her friend ended up trying to kiss her, and persisted despite the fact she turned him down twice. Finally, sick of not being heard, Max dumped her drink on his lap and stormed out of the bar in a messy, drunken hurry. From there, she walked the entire way home, tripping over nothing and yelling at cars who honked at her, until she finally stumbled into her apartment and basically face-planted onto the couch.

Saturday morning came _way_ too quickly, and she woke up in a much better position than she landed in. Apparently, Loki had fetched a pillow and tucked it under her face sometime that morning. She could hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, smell the pancakes, and yet she wanted absolutely no part of it. She wanted _nothing_ to do with him; her feelings and ego had taken a pretty big beating the night before, and for the most part, she was too embarrassed to face him at that point. So, instead of picking at the small plate he set in front of her on the coffee table, Max forced herself up, pulled her stupid costume down to a more reasonable place on her hips, and then sauntered off to the bathroom to vomit up the lingering alcohol in her stomach. From there, she basically crawled into her room and spent the day in bed with one of the worst hangovers she had had in a long time.

Loki came to check on her twice that day – once in the early afternoon and once in the late evening – but Max pretended to be asleep both times. Whenever she thought about what she saw from the night before, she wanted to cry. For almost a month now she had been excited to be around him, acutely aware of the feelings that had developed for her roommate, and for some silly reason, she thought they might act on them at the Halloween festivities. However, it seemed like most of the guys she knew, he was simply out there looking to get a bit of action, and that was that. Whatever. Fine. He may not have technically owed her anything, seeing as they weren't a couple by any stretch, but he was an ass for flirting with her as much as he did and then hooking up with a woman Max had an intense dislike for. If _that_ was all he wanted, then he had to stop hitting on her whenever they were alone.

So, Max hid away all day in bed, nursing her fractured heart and ego by catching up on the reality shows she missed online. Hunger propelled her to leave the room once, during which time she made a sandwich and merely grunted at Loki when he greeted her, and she left another time to use the bathroom and brush up for the night. Otherwise, Max became a hermit for the day, and it seemed entirely necessary at the time. Unfortunately, when Sunday rolled around, she felt much better, and she had no real excuse to hide away in her room except for the fact that she was upset and embarrassed. However, all she knew was that she still did not want to talk to Loki, so she did the most mature thing she could think of – texted Tiff for a lunch date and ran away while he was in the shower.

She was lucky to have someone selfless like Tiffany around when she needed to vent, and she spent most of her lunch dissecting almost every meaningful interaction she had had with Loki since he moved in so that they could collectively decide she hadn't been making the flirtation up in her head. Like any good friend would, Tiffany definitely agreed that she was justified to be a little upset, but she was also careful to insist that Max not let that one night ruin what was a pretty decent friendship. After all, she and Loki _did_ get along when they weren't flirting too, which meant they were capable of being friends now that she knew he just wanted to get some from a trashy girl.

Okay, Erica wasn't trashy… Well, not super trashy; Max was just bitter.

After she finished what she considered an insightful lunch with her friend, Max decided to do a bit of shopping downtown, and splurged on a new pair of boots for the upcoming winter. The weather forecast already predicted the first snowfall within a week or so, which meant an early winter filled with slush, ice, and endless mounds of snow. Winter was probably her least favourite season, because it seemed unending, and it meant fall was finally over. She disliked the horrendous snow when she needed to drive somewhere, wearing ten thousand layers to keep warm on the walk somewhere and _sweating_ like a beast when she arrived, and the fact that she usually gained ten pounds because of all the holiday foods. It was just such an exhausting season, and she was always so excited when the snow first started to melt in the spring.

However, that was a long way away at this point, and she forced herself to focus on the issues. Tiffany had brought up a good point – she shouldn't let this one incident _ruin_ her friendship with Loki. However, if she hadn't accidentally seen it, she would have continued having incredibly strong feelings for him, and she might have even tried to hook up with him at the bar after he had just gotten with someone else. There was no way he would have told her about his little rendezvous, which meant she would have continued looking like a moron as she mooned over him whenever they were alone. So, in a way, it was a good thing that she saw what she saw, as painful as it was, because it meant she wouldn't be ignorant in the days that followed.

That didn't make it hurt any less, mind you, but Max wasn't going to let it drag on for too long. She was never one for drama in relationships; she couldn't recall having fought with _any_ of her high school boyfriends because she wanted to avoid unnecessary tensions. With her last boyfriend, she did learn that the occasional spat was necessary to clear the air, but she didn't want to do that with Loki over something like this. She didn't want to seem petty and childish, but it was hard not to when she felt like he had just spat in the face of her affections. So, as she walked home clutching her new boots, Max decided that she wasn't going to go out of her way to be cruel or unwelcoming to her roommate, but she also acknowledged that she needed time to mend the wounds. If that meant she had to take a couple of days and not goof around with him, so be it.

Even with all her thoughts in order, Max was still pretty happy to not deal with Loki when she got home in the early evening. He had work that night, which meant she could do everything she needed to do on her own and be hidden away in her room when he returned – which was exactly what she did. Max spent the night finishing up an essay that was due in a few days, and printed several copies so that she could get her editing on sometime during the following day.

Well, it was the following day, and all Max wanted to do was stare at her ceiling and spend the day in bed. She woke up in no mood for classes, or first years whining about their marks, and yet she couldn't just stay in bed all day. Apparently, growing up meant ignoring one's basic wants and just getting shit done. However, that didn't mean she couldn't loll around in bed for a little while longer, trolling through Facebook feeds and hilarious pictures of cats from the comfort of her bed. Eventually, when she realized she only had a half hour to get up, get dressed, eat, and get to her first class, Max groaned noisily and flung herself out of bed.

She peeled off her old-shirt and Scooby-Doo pajama pants, and then hurriedly grabbed whatever she could find to make up an outfit for the day: jeans and a grey sweatshirt – classy as always. Since she definitely did not have time to shower now, she instead threw her hair up in bun as she darted out of her room and into the bathroom. Make-up came next, though barely enough to make a noticeable difference, and she quickly ran a toothbrush over her teeth, but mostly for the sake of getting rid of some morning breath. With all that sorted, Max hurried back to her room, threw her laptop in her backpack, and then decided she would get a proper breakfast from the bagel shop on campus after her first class.

She grimaced a little when she saw that Loki's door was open and he wasn't inside, because she knew it was too early for him to be in class. As per usual, she found him seated on the couch, the morning news program blaring from the TV. He looked up and over the back of the sofa as she passed, and she merely raised her eyebrows and forced some sort of a smile as a greeting.

"Class?" he asked, his eyes burning holes into the back of her head as she grabbed an apple from their shared fruit basket.

"Yup," Max told him, blatantly aware that it had been a rhetorical question not in need of an answer.

"I left some eggs in the pan for you," he told her as she crossed the room to throw on her jacket. "They should still be warm."

"Thanks, I just don't have time to eat," she remarked stiffly, unable to look at him as she got ready. Whenever she did, she felt humiliated, embarrassed, and it all felt unnecessary.

"Max-"

"I'll see you after classes," she said quickly, cutting off any sort of comment he intended to make as she hurried out the door.

She stopped at the end of their small porch to zip up her coat, and then sighed irritably. There was no need for any of this behaviour, and the logical part of her brain knew she ought to just talk to Loki rather than make it uncomfortable. However, words caught in her throat whenever she tried to come up with casual, normal conversation, so it seemed easier to just breeze by and hope that it got better as the week went on. He probably noticed the change in their dynamics, but she definitely wasn't up for some big discussion about it. He had to realize she had some sort of feelings for him, and that he hurt them a little with what he did… but then again, he was a guy, and they tended not to give _this_ much thought into anything.

Her march to class was brisk and boring, icy air clinging to exposed bits of skin around her neck and face. As usual, campus was full of people scrambling to get to class, and Max was just lucky enough to squeeze into her small seminar room as her professor shut the door. There were a few people absent from their small class, one that usually had about fifteen people in it, and Max took up her usual seat near the front. She began unpacking her things just as her professor informed them that it would be a short lesson today, as she merely wanted to have a consultation with everyone regarding the first drafts of their recent essay, and then they would be dismissed. Max nodded, pleased that she would be getting out of the class sooner today rather than later, and then eased back into her chair.

They had all been forced to write an essay comparing the methods of curatorial practices between the early twentieth century and more modern tactics; it was a subject that Max found fairly boring, but she thought she managed to string together an effective essay in the end. So, as she watched her professor go to the first person in the row, Max pulled out her laptop and decided to check through her email while she waited. After removing the standard ten emails of scams that she usually got, Max perused a newsletter that the department sent out, followed briefly by a tempting memo from an online store she subscribed to detailing a sale, and then finally she quickly checked out the gist of some emails that had been sent to her by students in her undergrad class.

Sadly, nothing other than the potential discounts offered at the one store tempted her to do much more than stare at it passively, and eventually she was simply clicking around through her inbox to see what she had bothered to keep. She eventually found herself staring at Patricia's old email with links to the summer internship in England, one that she had ignored after she got it, and then clicked it for the sake of giving it another read. The email was full of encouraging words from her best friend about Max's potential to be more with her work than what she was doing, followed by an underlined link to take her to the website.

She hesitated before clicking on it, but only for a brief moment. Their website was a little amateur compared to the ones she had seen elsewhere, but there seemed to be _a lot_ of information for her to read over. However, before she could get into the meatier opportunities that the internship offered, her professor finally made his way over to her desk, and she was forced to close her laptop and wait for the inevitable criticism that followed.

"Okay," her professor sighed as he pulled up a nearby chair. She watched him readjust his thin glasses, eyes skimming a page of notes stapled to the front of her assignment, "This wasn't great, Max."

She winced a little, but managed to maintain her composure as he passed the essay over to her. The first page was completely full with red scribbles, and she tried to blink back her frustration. She knew she hadn't worked super hard on the assignment, but she had not expected him to produce such a plethora of comments. Unfortunately, there were times when she still had her undergrad sentimentality when it came to doing certain assignments; she wrongly assumed professors would give it a skim read and then give her anywhere between a 75 and an 80 if she produced a coherent argument. That, however, was not the case for graduate school work, and Max slumped back into her chair glumly as her professor proceeded to outline every single thing that was wrong with her paper.

"I think you _know_ you could have brought up dozens of more curatorial styles that we used to see," the older man insisted, pushing his glasses up the arch of his nose as he leaned forward, red pen in hand. "You mention some of the obvious ones that we discussed in class, but I really wanted you guys to find some on your own and discuss them in detail."

Well, maybe that should have been in the fucking syllabus. She bit back her comment, and simply nodded, trying her best to look highly attentive as he demolished her paper.

"The similarities and differences you draw between the eras of museum studies are a little weak," he continued, flipping through her essay to circle some key points. "I mean, they are _very_ obvious, and, dare I say, cliché."

"That's what I felt when I was writing it," Max told him weakly.

She had been perfectly aware that everything she brought up in her paper was fairly standard information, stuff one might expect in a second or third year undergraduate paper, but at the time she simply hadn't cared. She was knee-deep in Halloween preparations, and schoolwork seemed trivial in comparison.

"I'm sure you did," he carried on. "I know you can produce better work than this. You don't even offer anything new in the concluding paragraph… I would have liked to see some contemplation about upcoming methods in the curatorial sciences, and possibly make some predictions of how they may catch in the North American market. You just… stopped the essay after you restated your point."

She had already tuned him out, but continued to nod along anyway.

"I mean, I expect a lot better from all of you at this point," he told her frankly. "This is a paper that would just barely pass by my standards, and that's if I'm in a generous mood when I'm marking."

"Yeah, that's what I figured."

"Fix this," he told her as he pushed her assignment across the desk toward her. "Add in my suggestions, and then I want to see new, original thought to back up your thesis. Okay?"

She nodded a little, and then forced a bit of a smile when he stared down at her through his glasses. He wasn't being cruel by any means, but he might have expected a little too much of her first legitimate assignment of the year for his class.

Fuck.

She noticed that as soon as the professor moved onto another student, the ones before got up and left. So, she had no intentions of sitting there for the rest of the class period and staring at that awful essay, and therefore gathered up her things and stuffed them in her backpack. Moments later, she was out the door and gone, glaring at nothing in particular as she marched along the empty corridors of the building.

Once outside, she struggled to get her coat zipped up in time before the nippy breeze darted in, and she hugged her body as she pushed through the ridiculously windy day on campus. The sky looked awful suddenly, as though it might pour angry chunks of snow-snot at any moment, and she quickly decided that she was going to spend the day somewhere inside as soon as possible. While she wasn't really in the mood to linger on campus after the poor essay left a sour taste in her mouth, she didn't particularly want to go home either. Her first conversation all weekend with Loki had been abrupt and _clearly_ full of avoidance on her part, and she was pretty sure he wasn't just going to let it slide.

However, she also knew he worked tonight, and if she could wait around on campus until six, she was in the clear for another day. Childish? Yes, but after getting completely desecrated on an essay she had expected to be an easy A, Max wasn't really in the mood to talk to anyone, let alone Loki.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem like the universe was going to give her what she wanted today, and she almost jumped out of her skin when someone grabbed her arm from behind. She whipped back, ready to unleash a verbal assault on whoever thought it would be a good idea to manhandle her in public, and then relaxed a little when she saw her assailant.

"Ben," Max breathed, shaking her head a little as she tucked some stray hairs behind her ear. "That was a bit aggressive, but hey!"

"Sorry," he laughed, scratching at the back of his head. "You were just motoring through campus… I actually had to jog to keep up."

"Woman on a mission," she insisted as she tried her best to keep the mood light and not awkward. However, it was pretty obvious by every inch of his body language that he felt uncomfortable standing in front of her, and she braced herself for _the_ impending conversation. "Listen, uh, I need to-"

"I'm so sorry for Friday night," Ben blurted suddenly, his cheeks darkening as Max winced a little. "I don't know what came over me-"

"Alcohol," she said quickly, giving him a nod. "Look, it's fine. Stuff happens sometimes, and I was completely plastered out of my mind, so let's just call it a day."

"No, I was so inconsiderate," he rambled, and Max immediately started to feel her irritation build. "You actually had to push me off, and I'm so sorry. I'm not normally like that-"

"We've been friends since high school," Max told him firmly. "I am aware of your actual personality. I'm not upset about it."

"That's because you're such a nice person," he babbled, "but I need you to hear me out."

"Ben, you really don't need to-"

"No, I do."

"No, seriously, you don't-"

"It's just, for the last year or so, I've been having these feelings," he started, and Max wanted to do nothing more than slap him across the face, "and I'm generally pretty good at keeping them in check, but I was drinking-"

"Ben!" she all but shouted. He flinched a little, mouth clamping shut as she glared at him. "I don't care about what happened! I honestly, truly, really don't care. We're fine. We're still friends, and I don't want something to spoil that. So you can just let it go, for fuck's sake, and stop trying to ruin what we've got? We're fine, okay? _Fine_. I genuinely like spending time with you, but if you're going to pull this bullshit on me now and make things awkward, I'm going to stop wanting to hang around with you. So just… Can we just not talk about it?"

"Y-Yeah, that's fine."

"Good," she snapped. "Sorry, but I'm just not in the mood today. I'll text you later."

She stomped off toward the library, and her pace slowed to a depressed stroll when she realized what a super huge mega-bitch she had been at the drop of a hat. Guilt flooded in, and she turned back to see if he might still be standing where she had left him, but nodded when she saw he wasn't. Maybe she could just give him a call tonight and apologize for having a meltdown on him. That might have been a little bit better than the slightly standoffish text she had planned to send.

The silence of the library was actually welcoming after the horrendous wind outside and the miserable attitude she felt on the inside. Unfortunately, finding a spot to sit where there was also a somewhere to plug in her laptop charger was like finding a pink M&M in a bag of peanut butter M&Ms… unlikely and almost downright impossible 99.9999999996% of the time. After almost twenty minutes of circling all three floors of the expansive building, Max managed to swoop in and steal a seat next to the furnace as someone else left. She would have preferred a pretty window seat with an idyllic view of her campus, but the furnace was warm and had an electrical outlet, so whatever.

She slowly unpacked the entirety of her bag, spreading it out so that no one would be tempted to sit on the other side of the table with her, and then turned on her laptop again. The screen flickered on and back to Pat's email about the internship, and Max decided to spend a little while flicking through the information page on the website. It seemed like a pretty sweet deal. Naturally, she would be a lowly student intern, but it was in England, and the spot she was applying for apparently had limited competition from other English-speaking communities outside the UK. It lasted for either two or four months, and in the end the student would walk away with some shining letter of recommendation and all the skills one might need on a resume for an entry-level position at museums elsewhere.

You know what? Fuck it. She was going to do this.

Normally, Max liked to have her summers as a time to cool off between school years, but she really only had a year and a half of graduate school left to go, and then it was off to the real world. If she wanted to do something in this real world, then she ought to make a little effort to secure a good position in the future. Plus, she sort of just wanted to get away from Masonville for a bit. She shouldn't let her current frustrations shape her future, but that was the way it worked today, apparently. Almost like she shouldn't shop online while drunk, but somehow she usually couldn't stop herself from doing that either.

So, she spent the next few hours drafting query letters and spiffing up her resume the best she could, eager to have a shot to do something worthwhile and relatable to all the years she had put in at college. Boys and their stupidity shouldn't affect her – _this_ was the stuff that mattered.

Right?

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Sooo just a wee short one. My next chapter will probably be out either at the end of the month, or the first week or so of October. It's a Loki POV chapter that I've always considered pivotal in the beginning sections of this story, and have had it planned since August. So I'm pretty pumped to write it. **

**I can't decide if I'm annoyed with Max's behaviour, or if I would totally do the same thing if I was in her situation. I personally prefer to hash out my issues with the person rather than let it drag on, but I think her feelings are hurt, ego bruised, and she feels like it's easier to just give it time and space before launching back into her relationship with Loki. I'm also fairly sure that no matter how wasted she was, she wasn't going to kiss Ben. I had contemplated it as a way to complicate the relationship, but realistically I would have punched my guy friend in the face if I had zero attraction and he tried to kiss me... so I suspected Max might do something similar.**

**I also feel like Loki is confused as all hell, and has almost no idea why she's so annoyed with him. Derp.  
**

**So yeah. Slowww updates, I suspect. School is kicking my ass already, and my novella needs to take some sort of priority… I'm 29,000 words of what I suspect will be about 55-60,000 words, due by October 15****th****. I got this shit on lockdown, yo. **

**I got an overwhelming number of reviews for the last chapter, and you guys have boosted this story up to 200 reviews! So much love that it makes my heart weep happily. Thank you! **


	19. A Just Punishment

Today had been an atrocious example of a day in the life of a pitiful human. In fact, this entire week had been something of a failure, and Loki wanted to do nothing more than come home and make something hot to eat. The weather had turned abysmal in a matter of days, and the walk to the St. Judith's campus was dreadful even with the sun out. Today, unfortunately, the sun had yet to surface once, and Loki marched along with soaking wet shoes as a strange mixture of rain and snow pelted down at him from the sky. He glared irritably at anything and everything that dared to cross his path, and nearly swore aloud when a car swerved to a stop as he was crossing the street. Nothing had gone his way thus far that day, and it seemed that it hadn't gotten much better once he left campus.

Ludwick had dismissed him quite excessively in front of his peers in his lecture that afternoon, and he had received a failing grade for an essay that he handed in for another class; none of this should matter to him, and yet it seemed as though everything mattered if he wanted to somehow get his powers back from Odin. He was saddled with an immense amount of work to slog through over the upcoming weekend, and his manager at the bookstore barely let him take the next few days off in order to catch up on his coursework. The hideous cow told him that he could find a way to make it up to her, as though allowing him a few evenings to himself to handle his assignments was the biggest favour she had ever given, and it took everything in Loki's being not to jab a pencil in her eye. People seemed no better than cars in the awful weather, and as he tried to escape that wretched campus, he found himself stumbled into and knocked against more times than he could count. Plus the soaking wet shoes and socks – had he already mentioned that? Yes, he wanted to do nothing more than get back to his apartment, put on dry clothing, and make a bowl of soup in order to decompress.

Regrettably, Loki was acutely aware that the apartment was no longer the peaceful haven it had once been. Ever since Max had the unfortunate luck to stumble in upon his indiscretion with that other woman, she had been remarkably frosty toward him. At first, he could understand; he was hardly blameless in terms of stroking her affections, but he hadn't meant for her to see him quenching a thirst that had become so unbearable that he could hardly concentrate. He may have been exceptionally fond of his roommate, almost to the point where it made him uncomfortable to focus on too much, but he wasn't about to use her to satisfy something that was so temporary and pitiful. Erica had served a purpose to meet an end, and when he was finished with her, he sent her along with the promises of contacting her the next day, but never did. The woman was barely a blip on his radar – an expression he had come to hear repeatedly on some of the terrible shows Max enjoyed – and before the night was up he had almost forgotten about her.

Max returned, as he expected she would, quite intoxicated, and passed out face first on the couch. She was in no state to be moved, so Loki tried his best to make her comfortable, and then decided to fix her some breakfast to smooth things over. He anticipated her mood in the morning with fair accuracy, but he had not expected her to send him away every time he tried to see her. It was a lonely existence when the one person who he spent most of his time with actively avoided him at all costs.

Unfortunately, he had to work Sunday night, and she spent the day out, escaping while he was in the shower, and the tension lingered. To him, his transgression hadn't been great enough to warrant the punishment, and despite the fact that he was busy with keeping himself afloat in this mortal life, he was more than willing to take some time out to speak with the woman so that she might understand why she ought not to ignore him.

However, the school week started again, and while Max did not blatantly ignore him anymore, she was far more distant than he would have liked. He could understand nursing some hurt feelings, but the way she spoke to him in such clipped, abrupt sentences was enough to put him in a foul mood every single day of that week. He knew he couldn't push her too far, as she might retract further or possibly finally yell at him, but he needed to do something. He cooked dinners big enough to share – poorly, mind you, but it was the thought that mattered – but Max professed to not being hungry or having already ate before she returned home. She laughed seldom, and seemed to do most of her work in her room when she was open – though now that it was nearing the end of the week, she had started to leave her door open more often. They had had one night of watching the television box together, and she seemed stiff the entire time, unwilling to discuss anything more than the program they were watching.

Honestly, Frigga had always told him that a woman scorned would be a powerful force, but he hadn't expected silence and dismissal to be the force that ruined him.

Now, he had tonight and the remainder of the weekend free from the shackles of his miserable occupation in this pathetic realm, which meant he had ample time to catch up on some of the pointless stressors from his classes, and possibly attempt to smooth things over with Max. He had checked the schedule board at the store before he left, and she wasn't due for a shift until the following Monday. He also knew her schooling was piling up, which meant she would be forced indoors to avoid the gloomy weather _and_ get a grasp on her assignments. If anything, this was the perfect time to approach her to discuss some sort of settlement to this silent warring of wills, but he would need his mood to improve before any of that happened. The mind was certainly willing to be patient with his roommate, but he was physically exhausted from struggling through the terrible weather all day, and the better half of his spirit wanted to do nothing aside from sleep.

Soup would perk him up, even if it was a pittance compared to the food in Asgard. On days like these, he really did miss having his meals prepared for him, the food exquisite and rich. He had certainly lived a spoiled life once, and perhaps he would again someday: no day soon, frustratingly enough.

He groaned noisily when he slipped on a particularly wet patch in the parking lot of the apartment complex, but pushed forward knowing that warmth was only a few steps away.

Loki definitely wasn't prepared for this sort of weather just yet, and decided to forgo a payment toward the credit card company in order to buy real winter clothing when he received his next sum from the bookstore. Even if Max wasn't speaking to him about much these days, she could have given a little warning to how poorly his shoes would hold up against the wet and dampness.

With the key lodged firmly in the door, Loki stumbled in, cursing the foul weather softly in the process, and then slammed the door to keep it out. He then kicked off his soaking shoes, removed his equally wet socks, and hung his coat on the nearby hanger. Much to his surprise, he spotted Max on the couch, her legs tucked neatly beneath her as she scowled at a paper in her lap, red marking pen in hand. For some reason, he wanted nothing more than to see her look up, grin impishly, and then ask him if it was raining outside. He missed the ease that she once provided for him, even if it was only for a short amount of time.

"Miserable weather," Loki offered as he studied her, backpack in hand, and waited for some sort of response. However, when nothing came, he glared a little, and then repeated what he said. It was only then that Max withdrew some white earbud from her ear, blinking back at him as though she hadn't even realized he was there.

"Sorry, what?"

"The weather," he repeated for a third time, gesturing back to the nearby window with a nod of his head. "It's miserable."

"Yeah, it's pretty shitty out there," she commented, sparing a glance in the direction of the window before plugging her bud back in and returning to her work. Loki pursed his lips a little in return, and then stalked back to his room miserably. Honestly, if she wanted to keep him at an arm's length forever, she was doing a damned good job!

After hurling his backpack onto his small bed, he proceeded to strip off his wet clothing and toss it in the basket Max bought for his dirty clothes, and then pulled on a thick sweater and a pair of loose pants. This was certainly more comfortable, but it seemed as though the chill had run straight through to his bones, penetrating the deepest layers of this weak physical being without much effort. A hot shower may have soothed him, but he was as hungry as he always was after a day rotting away in classrooms, and he needed something to appease that desire before anything else.

Running a hand through his hair, he hurried out toward the door, only to yelp softly when he stubbed his pinky toe on the leg of his chair. Wincing, Loki slowed to a brisk hobble as he continued toward the door, the offended digit wailing with every step he took. Max remained where he left her when he resurfaced in their shared living space, and Loki decided to satisfy his hunger before he even attempted to speak with her again. So, he rummaged about in the cupboards for a can of soup, settling on the only can they had with meat in it, and then searched for an adequate sized pot.

From there, it was a series of disasters, one right after the next. He knocked his head against a drawer after crouching down to fetch a pot. He cut a small gash into his finger after he opened the can of soup. He stood around for ages waiting for the liquid to boil, only to realize he hadn't even turned the boiler on. He stepped on something hard on the floor, but when he bent down to pick it up, it seemed to vanish from sight. He poured himself a glass of milk only to discover upon tasting it that it had gone sour. In the process of dumping the foul liquid into the sink, he placed his hand down in irritation, only to have the slight tip of his pinky finger graze the heat from the nearby burner, forcing him to recoil in anger and pain.

Finally, unable to take the strain and pressure built up within him, Loki hurled the glass at the wall with all his strength. It shattered upon impact, sending shards of glass everywhere as Max cried out in surprise.

Apparently _that_ she could hear.

Vision clouded by fury, Loki stormed toward the front door, threw it open, and then vanished into the bleak weather that had tormented him relentlessly already that day. This time around, however, he couldn't feel it, too taken by his frustration to even notice that he hadn't put on any shoes, or a jacket, or even shut the door behind him as he went. He had had enough of this place, that woman, this pathetic lump of flesh he had to live in. He had served his damn time already, and he had played by Odin's rules from the beginning; if anything, he had lived more as a human now than Thor had _ever_ done. His bumbling stepbrother actually told people who he was, whereas Loki managed to keep his cover successfully all this time – shouldn't that knock a period of time off his sentence?!

He barely felt the elements as he marched along, grinding his teeth together and knocking over the odd trash can here and there. He ignored the looks he got from neighbours, the honks he heard from cars, and the way his toes were ready to fall off after the first five minutes. His finger still bled a bright crimson from where he had cut it, another finger seared from the burner, but still he pushed forward, too infuriated at the thought of suffering on like this for another moment longer. How could they stand to live like this? How could they survive and rule an entire planet in bodies that were so flimsy and easily broken?

Before he realized it, he had walked toward his old familiar jogging trail away from the small town. The forest loomed ahead of him through the gray haze, trees taunting him as their vacant branches shimmered in the wind. It was then that he started to shiver, his breath furling out in bursts of fog and mist. His eyes watered against the onslaught of air, cold and biting against any bits of exposed skin, and he could officially no longer feel his feet. How many times had he ventured into the realm of the Frost Giants and never once felt this way? Countless. Countless times in the past, Loki had endured scorching heat and bitter cold, and never once had his body succumbed to the elements. This truly was a horrific punishment set down by the All-father, and he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take.

A flutter of movement suddenly caught his eye, and he glared at the treeline in an attempt to decipher what had distracted him. From there, he saw a shape emerge, and he glared at the familiarity of it. There, settled between two trees, was one of Odin's wolves. They patrolled the human realm for him from the shadows, their bright yellow eyes forever unblinking as they took in Midgardian life year after year. Had he sent one to collect him? Loki stumbled forward, his feet unwilling to move, but the wolf merely stared back at him, stationary and stoic. His lip curled upward in a snarl, one that might rival that of the beast, and he finally lost himself, his voice carrying over the wind.

"What is it that you want from me?" he demanded savagely, gesturing out to the world with his arms, "I have done _everything_ you commanded… I have lived in this worthless shell for almost two and a half months now, and you still leave me here to _suffer_!"

His hand began to quiver, and Loki then realized his entire body pulsated under the frigid air. His teeth chattered so violently that it became difficult to speak, difficult to do much more than clench his jaw together and glare, but he couldn't quiet himself any longer.

"Do you want me to die on this planet?" he shouted, fighting a desire to rush forth and stick his thumbs into those unfaltering yellow eyes. "Is that why you sent me here? To die? Was it never about me learning a lesson, All-father? It seems so simple, so easy, to take away my strength and leave me to _rot_ here!"

The wind reached its peak at last, screaming back at him with such fury that it was an effort to stay standing, but he pressed on.

"Shall I die here for you? What will dear Frigga say when you kill her _son_?!" he spat, eyes widening when the wolf turned away and disappeared back into the darkness. "Where are you going? I am still an Asgardian prince! How dare you turn your back on me?!"

Then, as quickly as the wind had built up, it stopped, leaving a dead silence around him. Nothing moved in the forest, and no eyes resurfaced to gawk at him. He stood there at the entrance of the trail, utterly alone, and realized no one had come to collect him. His body screamed in agony, and yet he managed to stay standing on the soggy, muddy ground, sharp pins pulsing through his appendages. Perhaps he would just die here. No one on this planet would notice his absence, and apparently no one in Asgard would either. There were countless mercenaries out for his skin; death seemed like an inevitable path now, so why prolong the agony?

However, as he took a step toward the forest, a horn sounded behind him noisily. He glanced back with a frown, and his knees nearly buckled when he saw Max jump out of the front seat. Loki merely blinked at her as she hurried forward, a large bundle of material in her hands, and then drifted toward a wet bench. The dampness soaked through his pants when he sat, but his body was so cold at this point that it barely fazed him. Instead, he simply sat there, his hands resting on his knees, his stare blank and at nothing in particular. He heard her approach slow, and then finally stop a few feet away from him, her breathing apparent in the vacant space.

"Hey crazypants," she chuckled nervously. "How are we doing?"

He said nothing, unable to formulate much with his stiff jaw, and merely stared up at her. This was the first time in the entire week that he hadn't seen the disdain in her eyes, the masked hurt. Instead, she appeared… concerned? Well, perhaps not quite that far, but there was something other than anger written across her face, and a small part of him warmed at the thought.

"So," Max continued as she dumped her armful of clothing down on the bench beside him, "I noticed you didn't actually put any shoes on before your walkout, and I figured since it's kind of cold, you might… you might need stuff."

Loki tried to move his arms to pick something up, but his body shook so violently that it was difficult to do much of anything. So, he simply watched as Max unfurled a pair of socks and kneeled down in front of him, her gloved hands barely registering on his skin as she tugged thick white socks on over his feet. She then grabbed a pair of boots he had never seen before and stuffed his feet into them, and although they were a little snug, they immediately started the warming process upon contact. That process, unfortunately, was actually quite painful, and Loki inhaled sharply when his feet began to feel again.

"There we go," Max murmured softly, looking up at him as she tucked some hair behind her ear. "You'd lose a toe if you just sat out here."

"Thank you," he grunted stiffly. Loki caught her smile a little before she grabbed a thick jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders, and with some effort he slid his arms through the sleeves. It was again too small for him, but anything was better than what he was without.

"Nolan had a box of stuff in my closet," she admitted as she popped a cap on his head, his ears singing when they were finally covered. "I knew it wouldn't fit, but all your stuff was wet."

"I'm not used to this weather," he managed, speaking very slowly and deliberately as his teeth chattered. She nodded, and then took a seat next to him on the bench, blowing out a small puff of air as she too stared out into the forest.

"Want to talk about it?" she inquired after a very long moment of nothing but the sound of his rattling teeth between them. He knew she meant to know about why he had stormed out in a fit of rage from their apartment, but that wasn't something he was willing to discuss with her just yet. Instead, he turned the tables back on her.

"You had no right to blatantly ignore me all week," he said gruffly, and he saw her fidget out of the corner of his eye. "What I did was in no way something to deliberately hurt you, and I am sorry that I did."

"Okay."

"But you had no reason to carry on like this for the week," he continued, his icy fingers fiddling with the zipper of this new coat. "I… I have no one but you, Max, and I care for you, but I have no obligation to you."

"Yeah, but you…" she trailed off, kicking out at some dead wet leaves clustered around her feet. "You just…"

"Your punishment did not fit my crime," he insisted weakly. "I am allowed to do whatever I wish with whomever I wish."

"Doesn't mean you're not an ass when you do," Max muttered. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but stayed silent when he heard her sigh. "I know I should have stopped being like this on like… Monday, but I just… I couldn't."

"Max-"

"I get that it might seem irrational, and I'm not going to explain everything to you," she insisted, and he noticed that her cheeks had gone red: perhaps from the wind, perhaps from embarrassment, and perhaps a little of both. "My feelings were hurt, and I… I felt stupid, and I needed some space from you so I could stop feeling like that."

"I did not appreciate the space," he admitted earnestly. "I missed having you with me."

He bit back an admission of his loneliness without her, as he was sure she could guess how he felt when he was completely on his own. Eyebrows shot up in surprise when she reached out and caught his quivering hands between hers, and despite the fact that they were too small to do much, he appreciated the sentiment. He curled his hands into fists and let her set them on her lap, happy with the way her thumbs grazed over his skin.

"See, you say stuff like that, and then you…"She swallowed noticeably, and then shrugged, "Whatever. I missed you too."

"Good," he chuckled, leaning in a little closer and quirking an eyebrow. "So will you speak to me about nothing again?"

She too leaned in, and then licked her lips and nodded, "Yeah, I will, but you can't hook up with Erica ever again."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," he mused. Then, without thinking, he brought his hand up and brushed her hair behind her other ear, noticing the skin on her neck prickle at the contact. "It did not mean a thing to me... It won't be happening again."

"Good."

His eyes drifted from her eyes to her lips, and then wandered absently back to the car on their own accord. It must have been so much warmer in there, and he heard her snort charmingly before giving his numb hand a squeeze.

"I guess we should have had this conversation in a place with heaters," she laughed as she rose to her feet. "Come on, I'll buy you dinner. Your soup frothed over and wrecked the floor while you were gone."

"Fantastic," he grumbled, wincing noticeably as his feet protested to being stood on. He stumbled a little when he started to move, and Max immediately wedged herself beneath his arm and wrapped a hand around his waist, offering a little support as his stiff limbs struggled to move. He hoped that they could pick up dinner, because he certainly couldn't take sitting in a restaurant right now; Loki wanted warm clothing, a blanket, and possibly Chinese food on the couch in front of the television box immediately.

His thoughts of death and drama were pushed aside for now. He had stated his case to Odin's servant, and surely the All-father was aware of his anger and frustration with his current situation. However, no feelings of power had been restored because of it, and therefore he was supposed to endure it until the man was satisfied with his punishment. It made no sense to give Odin the gratification of killing himself, particularly if that had been the underlying goal from the beginning. No, when the All-father made deals, he had to see them through; when Loki could fully appreciate the human race, he _would_ get his abilities back. For now, it was merely a matter of figuring out how to get there.

Today, he had only needed an ounce of clarity, and it was a confusing realization that the woman half-carrying him back to the car had provided that.

"So, what caused the temper tantrum?" Max asked again as they neared the vehicle. Loki considered his answer for a moment, and then leaned against the car as she opened the door for him.

"Everything."

"I get that," she admitted with a nod, nibbling on her lower lip as she curled over the car door. "Let's not do that again, okay?"

"Agreed," he muttered as he slid inside, a little put off that it was just as cool there as it was outside. "How did you find me?"

She shrugged, "I dunno… I was driving, and I sort of just figured you weren't heading somewhere that required shoes, and then I ended up here."

"Clever girl," Loki chuckled, and her eyes narrowed at him playfully as she slammed the door shut. He watched her hurry around the front of the car, and then literally counted the seconds until she had the car up and running, heat blasting from the front of the dashboard.

"So, McDonald's?"

"To go, please," Loki remarked, and she laughed as they pulled away from the forest. In the side mirror, Loki caught sight of a stark pair of yellow eyes lingering in the treeline again.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**So this was a chapter I thought up a long time ago, back when I was first planning this story. Initially, there was less drama behind it, because the Erica-Loki-Max issues weren't there at the beginning, but I always knew I wanted it in. From here (in my head), there is going to be a fairly subtle, yet noticeable for us, shift in their relationship, and I'm pretty excited for it to play out. **

**We don't have Max's POV in this chapter, but I suspect it was a 'forgive, but don't quite forget' situation in her head at the moment. … which probably won't even occur to Loki. **

**Another spoiler for my lovely, attentive readers: Thanksgiving is a chapter to look forward to. I tend to like holidays to mark significant events. We may have about two chapters leading up to that, so stay tuned, my dears!**

**I had also planned to update another story before this, but literally anytime I think about my FF stories, this is the only one I plan out to music. So. The muse won't leave me alone, and you got a quick update! Much love for my reviewers and silent lurkers! You guys make my day!**


	20. I want it long, straight, curly, fuzzy

Max glanced at the bright clock glaring from her phone screen, and then returned her gaze to the TV, fingers fidgeting over the scissors in her hand. Tonight was the night she finally cut Loki's hair. He had let it trail on down to his shoulders for long enough, and it was starting to get to a bit of a gross length, even on a guy as good looking as her roommate. Now, it wasn't like he let it get greasy or unkempt looking, but it was just getting a little too long for the type of guy he was; Loki wasn't some guy who sat shoeless on street corners and hummed to an acoustic guitar solo, and therefore he should stop sporting the look.

It had been a week since Loki threw a hissy fit and stormed out of their apartment, and Max was happy to say that things had settled back to relative normalcy. He brought up a number of good points when they talked about her treatment of him in the wake of his indiscretion with Erica, but Max had already come to those conclusions on her own. She shouldn't have simply boxed him out, and instead, she should have acted like an adult and simply talked to him. It might have been incredibly awkward at the time, and she was sure she would have stumbled over her words and possibly acted more emotional than necessary, but at least they wouldn't have lost the week they did. Although he had already apologized, Loki seemed to go out of his way over the course of the week to show just how sorry he actually was. She hadn't cooked a meal or washed a dish since their talk, and while she enjoyed him putting in a little more effort into the housework, she was ready to start pitching in again; it felt awkward to be waited on by someone she still had feelings for.

_Yes_, the feelings were still alive. Unfortunately, it seemed that even with spending a week on her own and being grumpy with him, Max had yet to shake away her pesky emotions. She tried; for a while she considered letting him grow his hair out to an awful length so that the physical side of her attraction might fade, but that seemed too cruel a punishment at this point. So, even as she tried to combat her feelings for him, Max saw it as a stroke of good will to give her roommate a haircut. He was bound to appreciate the gesture, and at this point, she was all confused again as to whether the feelings were reciprocal or not.

This week had been so much easier than last week. It was a much more pleasant existence when she wasn't actively trying to ignore someone she enjoyed being around. In fact, once she had settled her issues with Loki – even if she hadn't accepted his apology one hundred percent – Max found everything else in her world seemed to click back into place. She revised the abomination of an essay for the due date, and liked to think she would do much better the second time around. She managed to mutter some sort of apology to Ben after her freak-out on him, and as she expected he had happily accepted just about everything she had to say. Max assumed that, like her, Ben simply wanted the drama to be over with so that they could get back to normal, and that was exactly what happened. Max saw him a few times during the week, as per usual, and the first time was a little weird, but they managed to find a familiar rhythm pretty easily.

She heard a key wedge into the lock of the front door, and Max perked up a little as Loki stumbled in, grumbling under his breath as the weather tried to sneak in with him. The earlier part of the week had been fairly cool and dry, but today and the day before had been nothing but sleet from morning to night. After Max and Loki had made the tentative reconciliation, she took him shopping for proper winter gear, as he couldn't go around in her brother's old stuff forever; it didn't fit him in the slightest bit.

"Hey," Max greeted, glancing over the back of the couch as she watched him wriggle out of his winter jacket. "How was work?"

"Completely dead," Loki droned as he hung his jacket on a nearby hook and proceeded to unlace his massive brown boots. "There was no purpose to me being there… We had four customers all night."

"Was anyone else in with you?" She quickly slipped the scissors up her sleeve as he approached, and then scooted over to her end of the couch as he collapsed nearby.

"Four other people at the cash!" Loki sneered, glaring at the McDonald's commercial as it blared from the TV. "And the sow wouldn't send any of us home…"

"Typical."

"I read an entire novel from the English section," he carried on, rolling his eyes dramatically when she glanced at him. "Are you aware that we sell books that are basically complete smut?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him, "Did you read a book possibly related to shades of the colour grey?"

He pursed his lips for a moment, and then crossed his arms over his chest, "I thought it might delve into the greyness of one's character… but alas…"

"It did not?" Max offered, snorting loudly when he grimaced. "You could have put it back, you know?"

"Well, I had already started it," he muttered sheepishly. "It seemed foolish to make a final judgement until I had read the entire book."

"And?"

"Completely ridiculous," he insisted quietly. Max grinned at him, but before she could tease further, he reached across the space between them and snapped the bright orange hair elastic off her wrist, and then proceeded to use it to replace the nearly broken one that had currently been holding his hair up. She nibbled on her lower lip, and then turned to face him directly, an arm resting on the back of the couch.

"We need to have a serious talk."

"About what?" he asked, eyes still on the TV as an eyebrow shot up. "I told you I'll do the laundry tomorrow-"

"No, no, I don't care about that," Max insisted. Mind you, she was down to her granny-panties, so maybe it was time to throw a load of laundry in the wash. However, it was Loki's turn to do it, and she had to try hard to stop doing all of his chores for him. Shaking her head, she let the large pair of kitchen scissors slide out of her sleeve, and Loki flinched back when he saw them. "We need to do something about your hair."

"Have you been waiting for me to come home with those?" he demanded as he pointed down at the scissors.

"Yes."

"Max," Loki said firmly, "you are not touching my hair."

"But it's just… It's getting really long," she whined, inching a little closer and slipping her fingers through the smooth grooves of the scissor's handles. "I mean, we don't have to chop it all off, but we've got to trim it or _something_."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so, woman," Loki sneered, shooting her a bit of a look as she scoffed at him.

"Did you just call me _woman_?" Max demanded, eyebrows shooting up as he grinned. She watched him struggle to reach the remote on the coffee table, and then switched stations to the late night news.

"Well, I had a few other choice words," he commented dryly, eyes still glued to the screen, "but I kept myself decent for you."

Max's eyes narrowed a little, and she then flew forward, scissors in hand, and snipped off the base of his ponytail.

"Max!"

"Oh no," she sighed dramatically, the corners of her lips quirked upward as he jumped to his feet, "I slipped. Guess we'll just have to fix the mess I made back there."

"I am going to end you," he snarled weakly, fingers feeling about to see how much damage she had actually caused. She hadn't really gotten all that much, since he jerked out of the way a tad when she lunged forward, but she had snipped enough to warrant further trimming.

"Come on," she laughed. "Let me fix you."

"I don't need fixing," she heard him grumble as she dragged him toward the bathroom. For someone who did not want her touching his hair, he definitely wasn't putting up much of a fight. Perhaps he realized the effort was futile, and Max grinned victoriously as she sat him down on the toilet. He squinted a little when she flicked the obnoxiously bright light on, and then fixed a glare on her as she stood in front of him. "I hate you."

"No, you don't," she chuckled as she reached around him and pulled the orange elastic out of his hair. She tossed it in the sink, and then pulled the remainder of his hair forward, "I'm doing this because I care."

"And you thoroughly enjoy watching me suffer," he grunted. He seemed to want to say more, but Max smirked a little when he pressed his lips together, eyes drifting closed as she ran her fingers through his hair. It might have been long, but at least he kept it in good condition, and no knots hindered her as she brought her fingers through.

She resisted the urge to give him a scalp massage; she knew he would enjoy it, and deep down Max would too, but she was _trying_ to keep her feelings in check. After all, she was already standing between his legs, running her fingers through his hair… That ought to be enough for one day. Instead, Max finally just grabbed a chunk of hair and proceeded to chop it off, and then tossed it in the nearby garbage.

"Have you cut hair often?" Loki inquired as she took off another chunk.

"Nope," she replied, turning his head to the side by his chin so that she could get at the hair around his ears without removing an appendage. "But it can't be that hard."

"I'm so reassured."

"Shh," she hissed as she tossed another clump of hair in the garbage. "You're going to look _fabulous_."

"I really do hate you."

Max laughed again, and proceeded to chop off the rest of his hair in silence, as though deep in concentration. However, the source of the silence stemmed from the fact that Loki had started fiddling with the frayed bits of her jeans, his fingers occasionally brushing against her skin whenever he plucked at a loose piece over one of the stylishly placed holes. She figured if she did talk, she might stumble over her words, or say something that made her sound like a moron, so it was best to look aloof and nonchalant as she continued to hack away at his hair. From this position, her chest was also occasionally in his face, but seeing as she was wearing one of Nolan's old high school sweaters – still several sizes too large, mind you – Loki's view would be fairly restrained.

Unfortunately, Max quickly learned that cutting hair wasn't just snipping here and there until it was all one length again. Once she finished getting it all down to a fairly reasonable length, she wrinkled her nose at all the odds and ends that stuck out awkwardly. Clearly she had no professional future as a hairstylist.

"What does it look like?"

"Uhm…" Max trailed off, running her hand over the top of his head in an attempt to smooth down some of the awkward patches. "It's… okay."

Loki sighed noisily as he swatted her away, and then went to stand in front of the mirror. She braced herself when he groaned, and then forced some sort of hapless grin when he glared back at her.

"_You_ have mangled my hair," he snapped, pointing up at the train wreck on top of his head accusingly. "Fix it!"

"It's just hair," she managed, stepping toward him again and trying to give the uneven length some sort of style. However, every time she tried to smooth something over, or force it go another direction, it rebelled against her wishes and just stuck out stupidly. "We could shave it?"

"What?"

"Yeah, let's do that!" she trilled, nudging him aside and grabbing the electric razor he bought a few weeks ago. "You can do no wrong with a buzzcut."

"Max-"

"Sit on the edge of the tub," she ordered. There was no point in protesting; she had already mangled his hair beyond repair, and she figured she could just trim it down to an inch or so long. She wouldn't shave it completely, and she flicked through the gauges to find one that would trim that hair to a uniform, reasonable length. Loki seemed hesitant this time around, more so than before, but eventually took a seat when she shot him a pointed look.

"You're lucky I humour you," he muttered as he sat down, glaring at her as she approached.

"Oh, am I?" Max smirked down at him, and then snorted, "What would you do to me if you didn't humour me?"

"Terrible things," he told her. "Awful, unspeakable, terrible things."

He made some sort of attempt to appear threatening as he glared up at her, but it hardly seemed to have the effect he wanted. Max simply stared at him for a moment, and then laughed, "I'm sorry, I can't take you seriously when your hair looks like that."

She cut off whatever else he had to say by turning on the razor, and then slipped easily between his legs again to combat the mess she had made. Once she started, Max quickly realized they should have just done this from the beginning. The razor had its own gauges regarding the length of the shaven hair, which meant it wasn't up to her to decide for herself how long it ought to be. This was also way easier to get at the hair around his ears, and as the remainder of his hair trickled down into the bathtub, Max fell into an easy rhythm, one hand constantly cupped under his chin to move him at will. When she finished, she brushed off the loose hairs from the nape of his neck and shoulders, and then grinned.

"This is much better."

His arm suddenly slipped around the back of her knees when she tried to step away, and he tilted his head up to smirk at her.

"Your turn?"

"Hell no," she said, punctuating each word for effect. "My hair isn't slovenly yet."

"Mine wasn't either."

"Debatable," she told him, swatting his arm away playfully. When he didn't move it immediately, she stepped over it, careful not to knock him in the face with a knee, and then nodded toward the mirror. "Go on, have a look."

He brushed past her to look in the mirror, and Max bit her lip, hoping a blush hadn't shown itself yet. He looked even _better_ now, if that was possible, and she wondered if she had made a mistake chopping off the one thing that would have put a dampener on her attraction.

Loki made a face in the mirror again, and then leaned forward to run his hand over it.

"It'll look weird because you aren't used to it," Max insisted as she leaned back against the doorframe, arms crossed, "but it does look good."

He gave her a bit of a look in the mirror, and she then caught a small smirk surface and realized he had caught onto her already. Well, fuck.

"Now my head's going to be cold," he muttered as his gaze returned to the mirror.

"Wear a hat, you whiner," Max chuckled, raising her eyebrows at him challengingly when he shot her another glare. Her eyes widened a little when he picked up the discarded scissors, and then whirled back to face her.

"Just a little off the bottom?" he suggested, snapping them at her menacingly as he took a step forward.

"Fuck off," she warned, holding out a hand to hopefully keep him at bay.

However, when it was clear that he had no intention of actually stopping, Max gave a little shriek and darted out of the bathroom, barricading herself in her room for the night to avoid the wrath of the scissors. She heard Loki laugh when she locked the door, the handle rattling a little when he tried to get in, followed by silence. She waited by the door, and when she finally heard the TV turn back on form the living room, she realized he had given up the hunt. However, he was a bit of a trickster in his own right, and she decided to wait until she knew it was absolutely safe before she resurfaced.

As she walked over to her desk, she caught herself in the mirror, and then quickly frowned. Her smile had been enormous, cheeks a little pink, and her breathing heavy; that had to stop. She slipped out of her flattering jeans and into a pair of sweats, and then settled down in bed with her laptop. Stop. Stop it, Max. Don't think about him, or how good he looks with short hair… She pursed her lips, and then tried to see if she could catch Nolan on Skype before she fell asleep.

* * *

Loki ran his hands through his hair, and then glared up at his forehead.

He hadn't had his hair this short since he was a boy, and it was a strange sensation to get used to again. After all, he was accustomed to having hair everywhere all the time; it was a somewhat pleasant change to shower that Saturday morning and not have to dry anything on his head afterward. However, as much as he had resisted it at the time, and even though it may not have been all that appealing now, Loki was glad Max cut his hair. That been the first time all week they had done something mildly silly, and it meant that they were officially back on track toward resuming their previous relationship. It was nice that she hadn't been pointedly ignoring him anymore, but there was still a little bit of tension in the air. However, now that he had let her hack all the hair off his head, he assumed that all was finally forgiven. Honestly, the lengths he went for this woman…

While it would have been nice to have everything else fall back in line after he had sorted his issues with Max, that hardly seemed to be the case. He was still drowning in assignments, and had yet to get back into Ludwick's good books, plus he spent most of the money he set aside for credit card debt on a new winter wardrobe. Unfortunately, that seemed like more of a necessity than anything else at this point, as the winter weather seemed in full force the further into the month they went.

As much as he wanted to loll around in bed for the day, Loki forced himself out at a reasonable hour. He needed to write an essay that was due for a class on Monday, and he hadn't even started to think about it until the night before. Max offered to lend him her laptop for the day so that he could type everything out, which was much appreciated as the assignment was for a professor who had serious issues with his handwritten work. So, even though it took him longer to clack away at a keyboard, at least he wasn't going to lose marks again for handing in something written by pen. He wasn't sure if he could finish it by the end of the day, but that was the general goal for now.

He smirked a little when he heard Max's off-key singing echo from the bathroom. She occasionally liked to sing in the shower, and he noticed she did it more often when she was in a good mood. Naturally, she sounded dreadful, even to Loki's untrained human ears, and she would only get out a few lyrics before falling silent again. He may have teased her about a number of things, but never the fact that she liked to sing in the shower; it seemed too personal a thing for him to pick at. Instead, he pretended as though he hadn't heard anything when she eventually resurfaced, just as she would pretend she hadn't actually been that loud.

He sighed softly as he stared at the Word document, nothing but his name and class title written up in the corner, and then some bland title scrawled across the top of it. He hadn't the slightest idea how to write a reflective essay about a film he had been forced to watch, nor did he really care. However, there was a competitiveness in him that had forced him to actually _try_ on his assignments, especially after listening to the younger students in his class brag about their excellent grades. He wasn't about to be outdone by a gaggle of twenty-something humans, after all.

As he continued to stare blankly at the screen, a message popped up in front of him, followed by a fairly obnoxious ringing sound that seemed similar to Max's mobile telephone. The message continued to flash angrily at him, and he realized it was a phone call via the computer, similar to the one he had intercepted from Max's brother some weeks ago. He glanced back at the bathroom, and then decided he could hang up and let Max call whoever back when she was finished in the shower. Unfortunately, his finger slipped over the mouse when he tried to hit the 'reject' button, and accidentally clicked the image linked to the 'accept' option.

"Oh," Loki murmured when an image of a slim, older woman popped up on the screen. She seemed just as equally confused to see him as he did her, and he forced some sort of weak smile as she stared, "Hi, sorry, I hit the wrong button."

She blinked at him for a moment, and then leaned a little closer, as though scrutinizing his image on her end. Loki shifted uncomfortably, and then pointed over his shoulder, "Max is just… in the… the shower. Shall I fetch her?"

"Is she singing?" the woman laughed, a laugh that sounded surprisingly similar to that of his roommate's, and Loki nodded. "Ah, well, she'll be in there a while."

"Right."

"I take it you're the roommate?"

He blinked at her, finding it surprisingly strange to speak to someone through the laptop screen, and then nodded again, "Loki, yes."

"Well, it's nice to finally put a face to all the stories I've heard," the woman carried on, producing a bright green mug from somewhere off to the side and taking a sip.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude," Loki said, "but who are you?"

"Oh, sorry, Hun," the woman remarked quickly, smoothing her scraggly brown hair down. "My name's Nancy Wright… I'm Max's mom."

"Right, yes," he acknowledged, giving what he could see of her a quick once-over and nodding, "I can see the resemblance now."

"Sweet boy," she snorted. "Don't tell Max that."

"It'll be our secret."

"So how are you settling in?" she inquired, pressing on without missing a beat. Loki would have preferred to simply say his farewells and carry on with his assignment, but it seemed Max's ability to control him stemmed directly from her mother.

"Just fine, thank you," he replied as politely as he could, his discomfort growing when he saw her scrutinize him again. "It's gotten quite cold all of a sudden."

What? What was coming out of his mouth? Loki shook his head a little, feeling a touch embarrassed that he lost his dignity so early on in the conversation.

"Oh, yes it has," the Nancy woman chuckled, "and it's going to get worse. Do you have the proper clothes to wear? I know it isn't quite this cold in England."

"Yes, Max took me shopping, actually."

"Good, good," she carried on, "and your classes? Are you finding them okay?"

"As good as classes can be, I suppose," he managed, which made her grin.

"Right, now, are you going home for Thanksgiving?"

Loki swallowed thickly at the word 'home', and he felt his stomach knot in an uncomfortable way. He managed to not look too put off by the question, and shook his head, "I… We don't really celebrate Thanksgiving, actually."

Max vaguely explained the concept of the holiday recently after he heard everyone in his classes talking about their plans for the weekend.

"So you're just going to sit by yourself at the apartment for the holiday?" she clarified, eyebrows knitting together. Loki heard the shower shut off noisily from down the hall, and he shrugged.

"That's the way it looks."

"Well, we can't have that," Max's mother insisted, shaking her head at him as she took another sip from her obnoxiously bright mug. "You're going to come here for the weekend with Max… We'll give you a nice home cooked meal."

"That's very kind of you," Loki admitted, unable to keep from grinning at the offer, "but I don't want to intrude on a family affair."

"Don't be silly," the woman admonished, waving off his concern with her hand. "My boy won't be home this year, so I need another one to eat all the turkey I make. Bring your appetite."

"I… Well, if you insist," Loki finally said weakly, and he glanced over his shoulder when he heard bare feet padding along the hall behind him. Max emerged, a bright yellow towel wrapped around her supposedly naked frame, her dark hair soaked around her shoulders.

"Who are you talking to?" she demanded as she approached.

"Hi, sweetheart," her mother trilled through the laptop, and Loki gave her a half-hearted grin when she glared at him. "We were just talking about how Loki is going to eat all my turkey when he comes with you for Thanksgiving."

"Mom," Max sighed, leaning against the back of Loki's chair as she readjusted her towel. Loki tried hard not appear to stare, particularly with her mother watching. "I haven't even decided if I'm coming back. You can't just bully my roommate into coming home with me-"

"Of course you're coming home," the woman snapped. "You weren't home last year, and Nolan is gone this year, so you're coming home."

"But-"

"Max."

Loki held in a chuckle when he heard his grown roommate sigh, and then concede as though she was still a little girl, "Fine."

"There we go," her mother laughed. "Settled. Drive up on the Friday, and we'll do dinner Sunday."

"Okay, let us see if we can book time off work, and then we'll tell you when we're coming up," Max droned. Her mother sighed, and Max pressed on, "Look, can I call you back in a bit? I just jumped out of the shower."

"Not to worry, Loki's been keeping me company," the woman insisted. "Looking forward to meeting you in person, dear."

"And I you," Loki managed, ignoring the way Max glared holes in the sides of his head. "I also look forward to a home cooked meal."

"Yes, I'm sure you aren't eating well with Max as a roommate-"

"Hey," Max interjected, pinching his arm when he laughed, "he's actually worse than I am, if you can believe that."

Loki tried to feign a look of hurt, but it was clear neither woman were buying it. So, a thought struck him, and he grinned a little.

"I actually have a question for you," he spoke up. "What is Max's actual name? She refuses to tell me-"

Max quickly slapped a hand down over his mouth, cutting him off effectively. He tried to squirm away, but the woman managed to wrap herself around him and hold him in position.

"Oh, this _again_?" her mother sighed. "Max, you have a lovely name-"

"Mom, not now," she hissed. "Look, call you back in a bit."

"I don't see why he can't know-"

"I'll mute you, Mom."

"This is silly."

"Bye, Mom! I can see you breaking!"

"Honey-"

Loki managed to lightly nip at Max's palm, which shocked her enough to give him a moment to slip loose, but she quickly slammed the laptop closed.

"You know, the longer you draw this out, the worse it is going to be," Loki told her as she wiped her hand on the towel. "Just tell me."

"No," she snapped. "Don't Skype with my mom. It's weird."

"It was an accident, I can assure you," Loki insisted. If he could have, he would have ended the conversation right when it started and left Max to deal with whatever ire that provoked from the older woman.

"Okay, well," she managed, readjusting her towel as Loki's eyes swept over the fabric. "You don't have to come for Thanksgiving if you don't want to… Don't let her pressure you into that shit."

"No, no, I think I will," Loki told her. "I think it will be quite the adventure."

"You can't come to my house just to dig up dirt on me," she warned him. He shrugged innocently.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"I won't let you in the car."

"So suspicious, Max," he cooed, fluttering his eyelashes as she glared. "You must stop that… I have nothing but the purest intentions."

"Gross," she sneered as she turned on her heel and sauntered back toward her bedroom. Loki continued to watch her as she walked, head cocked to the side and lips slightly pursed, and then quickly shook his head when he realized he had been staring at her backside.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**OMG HAAAY. **

**So I finally managed to get an update going. I sort of did the first two paragraphs over the course of this week, and then literally sat here all day typing out the rest of the chapter. Boop. You guys are the reviewers who actively ask for updates, so I was like… YUS and chewed one out for you. **

**What I forever like about Max and Loki is something I've mentioned in another chapter's note… I like that, at this point, I can literally just see them stopping whatever they are doing and eating each other's faces. Like. Full-tilt nom. And totally loving it. Blergh. But I have plans. Plans indeed. –rubs hands together- **

**So here's the deal with me. I finished my novella. It's in the editing stages, and it took most of my writing time up in September. It's due by the 15****th**** of October, and I'm getting all nervous and shit about submitting my work to a grown-up publisher. So. Updates will continue to be sketchy and random until I've submitted the novella. **

**I am also getting back into my tumblr. There is a link on my profile to it, and I posted a link somewhere to a post where I actually gave Max a PB. I went with Lily Collins… She doesn't quite fit the image I had for Max, but there are certain pictures that do more so than anyone I can think of. So yeah, hit me up, tumblr-bots, and you will get updates on all my writing, along with pretty graphics that are in no way mine, for my fanfictions. Yeay!**

**Much love to all my reviewers and supporters! You guys make my life awesome! **


	21. Empty

Max sighed loudly, and then locked her cash register. For some ridiculous reason, there were six people working at the bookstore that night, she and Loki included, and they had maybe seen ten students stroll through over the course of her whole shift.

She wasn't really sure what her manager was doing lately, but she was definitely overbooking people on nights where two or three would have done it. Whatever. It wasn't her issue. However, that did mean she was fairly bored for a few hours at night, and she spent the majority of her time wishing she was back home on the couch. Instead, she and another woman named Greta were stuck behind cash registers near the front of the store, glaring at all the people that passed. St. Judith's usually hosted a Thanksgiving dinner the Thursday before the real Thanksgiving as a way for all the students to celebrate with their friends before flocking home for real food. They hosted it in the food court with tables pushed together and genuine stuffing; Max could hear the commotion two floors above, and if she couldn't be at home on the couch, she would have rather been up there with a good portion of the student body.

It was nearly time to go home, and Max had just come to the point of acceptance today in regards to Loki coming with her. She was fairly sure her parents were going to embarrass her at some point, Loki was going to see stupid childhood pictures scattered around the house, and they were all going to eat some really good food. It was kind of her mom to invite her roommate home for the weekend, but it put Max on edge. With all those pesky feelings floating around, she knew she was going to spend the weekend feeling defensive of herself and her stuff, _and_ she would essentially have to babysit Loki until they returned on Monday. After all, where was he going to go at her house when she needed to cool down and let her feelings dissipate? Would he sit with her Dad and watch football in the afternoon? The whole thing seemed kind of off-putting, but she tried really hard this week to think positive thoughts about the impending doom.

It was going to be fun. Loki and Max usually had fun together, so this weekend shouldn't be any different. Yup. That had to be her story, or she was going to spend way too much time being nervous about everything.

At this point, the week had essentially wound down. Yes, there was still another day left, technically speaking, that everyone had classes, but from experience Max knew the majority of the students wrote Friday off as a day of travel to get back home. She planned to go to the class where she had to be a TA, as it was more of a job than anything, and then come home to pack a bag. She wasn't even sure if Loki would go to class tomorrow, as a number of students had already told him it wasn't worth it since no one else would be there. At this point, Max stopped caring if he went to class or not. He had been so much better lately with his attendance that if he wanted to skip a few here and there so that they could start their drive tomorrow afternoon, Max wasn't about to stop him.

She shot Greta a small smile as she popped around her cash station, and then told her she was just going back to speak with Melissa for a bit. The woman nodded in response, but quickly resumed texting as soon as she thought Max had left. Rolling her eyes, Max drifted back through the familiar store, and caught sight of Loki reading in the astronomy shelves of his section, forehead creased in concentration. His hair no longer looked quite so short after it had a week to sort itself out, but he professed to get a bit more unwanted attention from the undergraduate girls in his class now that he was without his ponytail.

Max carried on to the Information Desk near the rear of the store, the place where Melissa usually spent the majority of her time when they were open doing whatever it is she did during the day. The older woman glanced up as she approached, and then lifted her glasses up to rest atop her head.

"Hey, is everything okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned to see Max approach.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, totally fine," Max insisted as she leaned against the oval desk. She fidgeted a little with her nametag as she spoke, and then proceeded to playing with the pen in her hair, "So, I just wanted to make sure we were still good for this weekend… Loki and I will be back Monday night, and then we're back to work Tuesday."

"I wanted to talk to him about that, actually," Melissa sighed, clicking on something on her computer, eyes scanning whatever it was as the screen brightened. "I think I'd like him to stay back and help out around the store. I think we're going to need him…"

Max frowned, and then resisted the urge to gesture back dramatically to the completely empty store behind her. However, she knew she couldn't take that kind of approach with her manager. Even though she had been working with the woman for a few years, there were always times when she had to tread carefully: booking vacation time off was one of them.

"Are you sure you can't find someone else who isn't going somewhere for Thanksgiving?" Max asked carefully, trying her best to appear polite and concerned at the same time. "I mean, it's just that it's his first American Thanksgiving, and my mom really wants to pull out all the stops. He's been really excited for it."

Sort of true; Loki was actually quite excited to get away from Masonville for a weekend, even if that meant going just a couple towns over. She guessed that he, like almost everyone, was feeling a bit burnt out at this point, and having a couple of days to not think about school, work, or anything in-between was a blessing.

"I know, and I feel really bad about that," Melissa continued, though Max could tell by the tone of her voice that she did _not_ feel bad one bit. "But I was thinking I might show him how to work a cash register this weekend…"

"Right, well…" Max trailed off, floundering for an excuse. Melissa _had_ already given him the time off, but it wasn't a law that she couldn't retract what she promised and book them in for shifts anyway. Or… well, Max assumed it wasn't, or there would be a lot of former employers getting an earful. A thought suddenly came to her, and while she knew Loki would absolutely hate her for it, she figured this might get him some time off.

"Maybe I'll go find him-"

"Look, Melissa," Max said quickly, catching the woman before she drifted back into the store to find Loki… not doing his job. "Don't tell him I told you, but he's got a bit of a crush on you."

The woman blinked at her, and Max saw the slightest of tints appear on her cheeks, "Really?"

"He's kind of embarrassed about it, and can get super shy around you," Max carried on, not all that sure where she was going as the words flew out of her mouth, "and he really wanted to go away this weekend, but he's been too nervous to talk to you directly about it."

"Oh, I…"

"So, if you make him stay, I think he'll be a bit upset, but he won't have the nerve to say anything," she continued, hoping to come to some sort of roundabout way that this would all make sense. "I think he'd really appreciate it if you gave him the time away. He was talking about bringing back some pumpkin pie to eat at work, and I'm pretty sure he meant to bring it in for you."

"Wow, I had no idea," Melissa breathed, leaning forward on the counter so that they could speak in softer tones. "He always seems so annoyed whenever he's here."

"Yeah, well," Max chuckled as she shrugged her shoulders, "that's what he's like when he's nervous."

"Huh."

"Yeah."

"You know, I always thought he had a thing for you," Melissa muttered as she fixed her ponytail. Max bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from commenting on it, and decided it would be best to ignore the comment for now.

"So, do you… still want him to stay?" she asked nonchalantly, "Because I can go tell him-"

"No, no, he can have his Thanksgiving," Melissa insisted, grinning shamelessly as she resumed typing something into her computer, "but make sure he brings me a good piece of pie back."

"Oh, yeah, totally," Max managed, resisting the urge to give her manager a thumbs-up as she backed away from the Information Desk. Once she was in the clear, she hurried across the store and found Loki in the same spot he had been before: seated on a stool, back against one bookshelf, and long legs stretched up across on the other bookshelf, an astronomy textbook in his hands. He straightened up a little when he heard her coming, and then settled back down when he saw who it was.

"I thought you were an actual customer," he droned as she approached. "They are sometimes known to venture into these parts, though it's fairly rare."

"The accent is actually terrible," Max told him, quirking an eyebrow when he tried to flip the Australian on. They been watching _way_ too much of _Natural Geographic_ lately, and Loki had this ridiculous habit of trying to mimic accents whenever he found one that made him laugh.

"Greta liked it."

"Greta will like anything if it means people will leave her alone so she can play on her phone," she insisted as she leaned against the shelf across from him, shoving his feet off in the process. "So, I did something."

His eyes flickered up to her, and he slowly closed the book when she made a face. Setting the tome aside, Loki raised an eyebrow at her, "What?"

"I may or may not have told Melissa you have a crush on her so she wouldn't keep you here this weekend."

The sentence came out in a whirl, and Loki blinked up at her a few times, as though digesting what she had just said, and then glared.

"You _what_?"

"It seemed logical at the time," she whispered as he stood up and dragged her down to the end of the aisle. "She was going to make you stay, and probably you alone, to learn how to use the cash register."

"Are you trying to ruin my life?" he demanded heatedly. "That _woman_ does _not_ need _encouragement_."

Fuck, he was so good looking when he was irritated. Not a good thing.

"Whatever, it worked," Max told him quickly. "You don't have to stay… You just need to bring her a piece of pie back from the weekend."

"I really do hate you sometimes."

"See, when you say that, I know you mean you are really thankful I've got your back," she clarified with a grin, and then poked him sharply in the chest when he rolled his eyes. "I could have left you here with her all weekend, just the two of you and the cash register, but I totally saved your ass."

"All right, all right," he grumbled, rubbing the spot where she had stabbed him with her nail. "Easy."

"So, working hard back here then?" she asked after a moment or so of simply staring at each other in the empty aisle.

"I actually found the most interesting book on space travel," he mused as he plucked a piece of lint from her black sweater. "Do you think there is life beyond this planet?"

"That's a deep question for a Thursday night," Max laughed, turning away when he went for another piece on her that she knew wasn't there. "Uhm, I don't know. I haven't seen much proof that there's life outside of Earth."

"Oh?"

"Wait, no," she said suddenly, recalling a news story from a few years ago that had caught her attention, "I remember there was an alien down in Arizona… Thir? Thor? Thor. They did a big story on him this year after people caught him on video in New York."

She glanced back after a very long moment of silence from her roommate, and saw him staring at the ground, his cheeks sucked in a little.

"Did you watch it?"

"The video? No," she admitted with a shrug. "Ben was really into it at the time, but I think I was more focused on exams than the shit happening in Manhattan."

"So you didn't see any of it?" he inquired.

"Nope."

"None of it?"

"I dunno, maybe I watched a video on Youtube at some point," Max muttered as she flipped through the text that Loki had discarded. "Did you see it?" She looked back again when he didn't answer immediately, and he quickly shook his head. Max shrugged, "So yeah, I don't know what that means for life outside of Earth… I'm sure we aren't the only planet that has the ability to sustain life."

"Such an academic mind," Loki sighed, nudging her out of the way to pick up the book again. "Your insight always astounds me."

"Fuck off, Captain Sarcasm," she chuckled. She then took a seat on the forgotten stool, legs splayed out in front of her, shoulders slumped. "Well, what's your opinion on life beyond Earth?"

"Oh, without question," he remarked. "There are many worlds outside of this one."

"Oh yeah?" Max challenged, raising her eyebrows, "Name them."

"No."

"That means you can't think of any," she snorted, grinning up at him as he shoved the textbook back in its proper place.

"I can think of many, actually."

"Well, go on," Max laughed, nudging his leg with her fist. "Give me one."

"I…"

He trailed off at the sound of heels approaching, and Max was quickly on her feet when Melissa rounded the corner and into their aisle. She came with a mop and bucket in hand, which was never a good sign, and Max suddenly braced herself for the onslaught.

"Someone puked in the bathroom," she informed them, holding out the mop. "Guess the turkey upstairs wasn't sitting well… They _just_ missed the toilet."

"Awesome," Max muttered, wrinkling her nose a little at the thought. Loki seemed to share the sentiment, but he remained silent at her side, his gaze fixated on the mop.

"So, any volunteers?" Melissa offered, raising her eyebrows at both of them.

"Nope," Max said quickly. "I should get back to my till."

"Everybody else is on break," she heard Melissa say apologetically, followed shortly by Loki's rather strained response as she strolled out of the aisle.

She hurried back to her cash register to make her excuse seem a little more legitimate, and she spotted Loki stalking out across the store a few minutes later. She smirked at him as he glared at the offending bathroom door, and then leaned across the counter at her register, "Lookin' good with that mop."

He paused briefly to shoot her a malicious look, and then carried on without another word as she snorted noisily. It seemed Greta was also on break, which meant she had the run of the front of the store for the next half hour. They had another hour or so to go until they could close the doors to the bookstore, and Max predicted not a single soul strolling during that timeframe.

Loki resurfaced almost violently from the bathroom a minute or so later with his shirt pulled up over his nose, and he leaned back against the wall nearby, eyes closed. Max smirked as she watched, and could only imagine just how horrible their single bathroom smelled now that vomit had been festering for… well, who knows how long. She wanted to feel bad for Loki, but seeing as she had worked just about every crummy job available to her during her teen years, she had already had her fair share of disgusting bathrooms and vomit to clean; it was Loki's time to shine.

"Yum," Max called. She then nodded toward the bathroom door when he narrowed his eyes at her from across the way, the distance just far enough that she had to raise her voice. "That seems like a good time."

"I will _end_ you," Loki threatened, grasping the doorknob a little dramatically, tucking his shirt back over his nose, and disappearing back inside.

"Make sure to spray some air freshener when you're done," Max shouted quickly as the door slammed shut behind him. She then snorted and settled back onto a nearby black stool, legs just grazing the floor as she fiddled around with her cash drawer for a while. Seeing as she did not expect to get any more customers for the night, she commenced counting down her float.

However, she may have been a little too hasty, and actually flinched noticeably when someone cleared their throat in front of her counter. Thankfully, it was a familiar face smiling down at her, and she let out a sigh of relief as she shut her register noisily.

"Happy early Thanksgiving," Ben greeted, dressed to the nines in a dress shirt, green tie, and dark fitted slacks. His hair even looked combed. He then produced a small plate from behind his back, which was loaded with her favourite stuffing and gravy, followed shortly by a turkey stuffed animal. "I won the raffle this year."

"Well, aren't you just a gift-giver," Max chuckled as she pulled the plate toward her, eyeing the stuffed animal a little warily. "He's cute. You should make him your house mascot."

"We've already got Harriet," he admitted as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I think she might get jealous."

"The rat that occasionally lives under your patio does not count as a mascot," she told him playfully as she stabbed at some fat pieces of stuffing with the purple plastic fork. "How did you know I'd be working?"

"You told me, remember?" Ben remarked as she tried some of his gift. She moaned softly as soon as the deliciousness touched the first taste bud, and his smile grew exponentially at her appreciative noises. "I figured you would be a little upset to miss the dinner again, so I saved you a plate of stuffing."

"Thoughtful," Max commended as she chewed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loki stagger out of the bathroom again, mop and bucket in hand, and she tried really hard to keep her attention on Ben. "So, are you going home this year?"

"I'm volunteering at the shelter tomorrow and Saturday night, but then my sister is going to pick me up Sunday for dinner," he explained. "You?"

"Yeah, my mom sort of forced me," she sighed, and then scooped another forkful of stuffing in her mouth, "and then invited Loki too. So… I sort of have to go now."

"Oh…" He trailed off suddenly, and then drummed his fingers on the counter, seemingly more fidgety than usual. "Well…"

"Yeah, I'd rather stay," Max rambled on when she felt the awkward start to build in the air, "but you know… when Mom wants something, she tends to get it."

"Yeah, I guess."

She winced when she remembered Ben's parents divorced a few years ago, and he hadn't actually seen or heard from his mom since.

"Do you want some stuffing?" she asked quickly, holding up the plate for him to see that she was offering him some of the best bits with gravy. He shook his head.

"No, I think I'm all stuffing-ed out for tonight," he insisted. "I should… I should get going. I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Yeah, my manager's really in a mood tonight," Max lied, hoping he didn't notice the completely empty store and no manager in sight. "I'll see you tomorrow for class?"

"Sounds good," Ben said, tapping the counter twice before turning away. She watched him hurry out of the store, and then slumped back down on her stool, shoveling the rest of the stuffing into her mouth. She thought they might have gotten over their occasional awkward moments after Halloween, but apparently that was going to take some time.

Still, it was kind of sweet that he brought her something down. Unexpected and sweet. However, she definitely didn't need the turkey stuffed toy, but for some reason or another hid it when Greta returned from break. Time crawled by after Ben left, and now that she was confined to her cash when two random girls decided to peruse the small fiction section nearby, the boredom was pretty overwhelming. Eventually, Melissa shut the doors for the night, and Max drifted to the back room with Greta to count their tills. Over the course of her shift, she sold three things, and somehow was off four dollars. However, it could have been worse, and Melissa didn't mind if they were over or under, so long as it wasn't more than ten dollars. Therefore, she was in the clear. After both she and Greta counted each other's floats, Max hurried back to her register and grabbed the turkey, which was currently hanging out beneath the counter, and then decided to wait for Loki in the change room.

He eventually strolled in about twenty minutes later, well after everyone had already left, and Max glanced up at him from her bench. She had wasted the time away playing games on her phone, her puffy winter jacket making her sweat a little. He seemed to have recovered from the vomit incident, but there was still a scowl on his lips.

"She made me tell her all about my Thanksgiving plans," he grumbled as he retrieved his jacket from his locker. "I'll never hear the end of it now… You've doomed me."

"Oh, you'll be fine," Max sighed, rolling her eyes a little as she shoved her phone in her pocket. "Let's go… The _Hell's_ _Kitchen_ season finale is on tonight."

"Joy."

"Hey, you know you want to see who wins just as much as I do."

He merely grunted in response, and Max frowned a little; was he actually upset with her for what she did with Melissa? Maybe the events of the night simply took a toll on his sanity, and she followed him out the back exit in silence. They walked next to one another through the cold toward her car, and halfway there Loki glanced down at her.

"What is that?"

"Oh," she held up the plush toy for him to see. "Ben won it and… gave it to me."

She heard him chuckle softly, "How gallant."

"You need to stop teasing him," Max ordered as they approached her car.

He said nothing on the matter, and instead waited for her to unlock the vehicle in silence. Once she did, he threw his bag in the back, and Max set the turkey stuffy in the rear window, just in case Ben was ever in her car. However, just as she was about to get in, she caught sight of Loki's irritated gaze once more, and she offered him something she quickly realized she might regret.

"Hey," she started, forcing him to stop just as he was about to slide. "Do you… Do you want to drive the car home?"

She almost cringed when the words left her lips, because Loki lit up like a bunch of obnoxious Christmas lights. He slammed the door shut and hurried over to her side, slipping a little on a patch of nearby ice.

"Yes, yes I would like that very much," he breathed, tugging at the keys dangling from her hands.

"Because, I mean, I did say I would teach you," she said slowly, a little hesitant to let go of her keychain. It was more like she was justifying the action to herself than to him; he just looked so happy all of a sudden. "You have driven a car before, right?"

"Something like that."

"Okay, well," she sighed as she finally released the keys. "We'll go really slow… There shouldn't be many people on the roads, but if the ice throws you, we'll switch."

"Excellent."

He almost bounced into the front seat once she moved out of the way, and Max hurried around to the other side. Once in, she immediately latched herself in with the seatbelt, and then snapped for Loki to do the same.

"Okay, so the first thing you do is check your mirrors," she told him, only vaguely remembering what she had learned almost ten years ago in her driver's education class. "You need to be able to see through the back and out the sides… You know, maybe we shouldn't do this at night."

"It's fine, Max," Loki stated as he shifted the mirror around in front of him. "You really don't need to panic. I'm sure this is perfectly simple."

Max shot him a look as he turned the key in the ignition, her trusty old car humming to life.

"So, gas on the right, brakes on the left," she instructed. "You don't need to push hard… a light tap will do. We're going to stick to about thirty for you tonight."

Was this a bad idea? After all, he hadn't driven a car before, and there she was getting him to drive at night with icy roads; she was a horrible influence. Max clutched the seatbelt across her chest as the car lurched forward, and Loki gave something of a pleasant laugh at the car's response.

"Gentle taps," she reminded him as she tried to loosen the seatbelt's death grip on her. "There we go… Now, turn the wheel slowly and fully. Make sure you _stop_ at the stop signs-"

"Max, I'm not a complete simpleton," Loki insisted as he brought the car to a smooth stop at the edge of the parking lot, glancing in both directions before heading out into the actual road. "I may not have driven before, but I've been watching you for weeks now. I'm a fast learner."

"And modest at that," Max muttered, wincing a little when they swerved into the other lane. "Just… look far ahead, and try to stay in our lane."

"But there isn't anyone on the road."

"I know, but we have…." She reached over and turned the wheel sharply to keep him from drifting, "We have to obey most rules even if there isn't anyone around. Most of the time. Stay straight."

Max wasn't really all that sure if she should be surprised that Loki was a fairly decent driver. Yes, he drifted, and he wasn't the greatest at keeping his speed at one level, but that could all be worked on. The ride was mercifully short, less than ten minutes, and Loki soon had the car rolling into their familiar parking lot. He managed to get the car in a parking spot without much difficulty, but doing it in an empty lot with no other cars around was bound to make it look easy.

"Okay, so that… That wasn't terrible," Max admitted once he finally turned the car off. There was still a lot of tension in her body as she sat there, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. "We can try some more driving on the country roads tomorrow when it's actually daytime… There are some gravel shoulders I can throw you on."

"Sounds exciting."

"Actually, let me think about it," Max said quickly when she saw his enthusiasm grow. "No promises."

He shot her a bit of a lopsided grin, and she rolled her eyes: men and their machines. Max pushed the passenger door open and clambered out, and then let out a bit of a shout when she stepped into an icy, yet half-melted, puddle. It soaked right through her shoes and ate into her socks, the frigid water chilling her immediately.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Max grumbled, shaking her feet as she climbed out of the wet mess.

"What did you do?"

"I stepped in a puddle," she whined, glaring at Loki as he strolled around the car. It was his fault for picking such a stupid parking spot.

"Well," he chuckled, glancing down at her feet as he shoved her keys into her hand, "allow _me_ a moment to be gallant then."

She arched an eyebrow when he turned back and crouched down.

"But my feet are already wet," she protested weakly.

"Just get on, will you? I look ridiculous."

She bit back her smirk as she hopped up onto his back, wrapping her legs carefully around his torso and her arms loosely around his neck. Most of the time Max wasn't a fan of letting people carry her, since she always worried about being too heavy. However, he barely made a sound when he readjusted her to his comfort.

"Oh, your bag," she protested, recalling that it was still in the backseat.

"I don't need it," he told her softly. "Nothing in there that I really need tonight."

She nodded, and then swallowed as they carried on toward the apartment building. Against her better judgement, she let herself lean in a little, her chin resting against the side of his head as he walked. When he said nothing of it, Max wrapped her arms a little more snugly around him, and smiled when he slipped his hands beneath her kneecaps, holding her until they reached the front door. They stood there staring at it for a moment, and Max finally shifted enough to wiggle her keys from her pocket. Loki then leaned down just low enough so that she could jam the proper key in the lock, and soon enough for they were inside, where he promptly set her down.

It was difficult to hide the soft smile from her lips as she kicked off her shoes and dragged off her sodden socks. She wanted to see if Loki had the same smile, as she suspected her might, but he faced away from her as he removed his jacket and boots. So, Max opted to let it be for now – why ruin the moment? She hurried back to her room, glancing at the clock over the stove along the way, and quickly changed into her comfortable sweats for her _Hell's Kitchen_ finale that started in less than four minutes.

When she returned to the living room, Loki already had the TV on to the proper station, and she grinned as she threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

"It's starting."

"I _can_ watch from the kitchen, you know," Max told him as she leaned against the island. "It's all one room, in case you haven't noticed."

"I can't believe I'm watching this…"

"Shut up, you love it," Max mused, eyes glued to the TV as they recounted what had happened on the last episode. "Want butter on the popcorn?"

He was silent for a moment, "Can you add salt too?"

"I spoil you," she sighed, and he smirked at her from the couch as she readied their post-work meal. It was all perfectly prepared by the time the show got through the opening credits and the catch-up bit from last week, and Max plopped down on the couch next to Loki with a giant bowl of buttery, salty goodness between them.

Neither of them commented on the fact that they sat in the middle of the couch, her folded legs just barely touching his as they rested on the coffee table. Instead, Max focused solely on the TV, absently shoving pieces of popcorn in her mouth as her season finale played out before her.

* * *

"Can someone tell me why the Hell I'm standing in some shithole in Bangkok?"

Fury's gaze swept across the team of agents standing in front of him, and Natasha tried her best to keep from smirking. She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze stoic; she too wondered what might have been important enough to drag her out of vacation two months early.

Aruba was nice this time of year.

"We've found something that the agency needs to tackle immediately," Agent 22, a rookie if Natasha had ever seen one, insisted as he forced his team to part. Behind them, atop a table with only three legs, lay a body covered with a dirty sheet. The traffic roared outside, and she quirked a thin eyebrow at the man in the dark room.

"I think a phone call would have been just fine," Fury snapped as he stalked across the room. "Shockingly, 22, I have other cases to deal with. You are not my number one priority."

"Yes, Directory Fury," the man rambled, hurrying along after him, "but this is a serious problem… I thought you would need to see it yourself so we can proceed immediately."

Sighing, Natasha crossed the room at a leisurely rate, and then came to an abrupt halt when the stench of rotting flesh hit her. Normally that scent was enough to clear an entire room; why had she only just detected it now? She glanced at Fury, who, as usual, seemed oblivious to the discomfort, and then watched him rip the sheet off and toss it aside.

As she had predicted, a body lay strewn across the table, but it seemed… off. Natasha hurried forward, standing next to her current employer as she surveyed the dead man. He appeared to be a Thai local, but there was something wrong with the hue of his skin. It was far too brown, yet sickly, and there were bright yellow rims around his eyes.

"Should I be breathing this air right now, 22?" Fury demanded as his one good eye roamed the body. "What am I looking at?"

"At first glance, it seems to be just another dead body," the agent insisted, nudging Natasha slightly to the side to get closer. Her eyes narrowed as he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, and then dragged open the closed eyelids. Nothing stared out at them. Instead, Natasha saw darkness.

"Sometimes the eyes are removed as a form of torture," she commented absently, unaffected by the sight. "Occasionally it's to send a message."

"Everything inside is missing," the agent continued. She watched him crack open the jaw, bringing forth another foul odor, but clearly revealing no teeth or a hint of a tongue. "_Everything_."

She watched as the agent produced a knife, and then, without warning, sank it into the body's chest. He then sliced it along as though running a knife through butter, and proceeded to pull the chest cavity apart. Sure enough, it was hollow: no organs, barely a set of ribs – they could see clear to the back.

"It's like it's a… shell," Fury muttered, reaching forward and tentatively touching the skin with a gloved hand.

"We've found a few more in several neighbouring countries," 22 explained. "We think something is living in them… Sources say this man was seen walking about just a day ago."

"Invasion of the Body Snatchers?" Natasha mused, more to herself than anyone, and she frowned when the new agent nodded vigorously.

"That's what we were guessing…"

"Is Thor still… here?" Fury asked her, eyebrows knitting together as he surveyed her. Natasha scoffed.

"Sir, I was in Aruba until this morning," she told him. "I don't know where anyone is."

"Well, maybe we should check," Fury told her quietly. "See if he knows of any species that might inhabit bodies."

"Let's not jump to conclusions," she insisted when she spotted 22's somewhat smug grin. "This could still be local gang work. We should investigate more."

"That's why we rented you a room, Agent Romanov," 22 told her, tossing a key across the body at her. "Welcome to Bangkok…"

Her eyes narrowed again as she caught the key.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**OMG HAY AGAIN. **

**So, I know people were pretty excited for the Thanksgiving chapter, but I wanted to get one more in before we start that. And I figured you'd all be a little annoyed if I waited two weeks with THIS update, and then maybe more time when I get busy for Thanksgiving. So. Boom. I do you favours because I love you. **

**Also. Hellooo those who started following me on tumblr after the last update. It kind of made my day, as I'm still a noob there. **

**The Avengers aspect of this plot isn't really the main focus of the story, but it's helping me build-up stuff to the sequel… to which I have planned another sequel. I need to stop. This story is my sickness. **

**Not much to say in the AN tonight. I have cleaned up puke at work before, and many other horrible things in the women's bathroom. LADIES. FLUSH YOUR SHIT. God. Use your foot if you don't want to touch the handle, because I don't fucking want to flush your mess anymore than you do. **_**Anyway**_**. I could go on forever about that kind of stuff. Rage. **

**Also Ben. What are you doing, goofus? **

**Much love to all my reviewers and lurkers alike! Thanksgiving is next! … also, Happy Canadian Thanksgiving. Because. That's where I am, and that's what we're doing. Bombdiggity. **


	22. It's Friday, I'm in love

"Okay…" Max sighed, tapping her fingers on the roof of the car as she leaned against it, her door open, and stared back at the locked apartment across the parking lot. "Have we got everything? Keys, dinner clothes, gloves…"

"Either get in or shut the door," Loki demanded from inside the car, and she smirked a little when he slipped a finger through the belt loop of her jeans and gave it a sharp tug as though to drag her in. "You're letting all the warm air out."

"All right, I'm coming," she snapped, rolling her eyes and swatting his hands away as she slid down into the front seat. He settled back into the passenger side, and then cranked the heat up to its full potential, his glare only lessening when she finally closed the door.

So, the weekend had finally arrived – it was officially Thanksgiving. Most people considered the holiday to stretch from Friday to Monday, which would explain why there was almost no one in any of the lectures she went to that morning. At first, she had planned to skip everything and have a nice, leisurely morning in bed to prepare for a weekend balancing Loki and her parents. However, a rather whiny text from Ben about no other TAs showing up for their class managed to drag her to campus, even if it was only for a few hours. Loki, on the other hand, spent the entire morning sleeping, and hadn't actually surfaced until about twenty minutes before they planned to leave.

He seemed refreshed, which meant they were in for a pleasant drive to her parents' house, but that was quickly soured when he realized just how cold it was outside. However, she wasn't going to let the frigid air get them off to a rough start, so while Loki packed a bag for the weekend, Max zipped off to McDonald's to grab them something to munch on for the trip. When she returned, Loki managed to throw a few outfits into a bag, and added another when she told him her parents liked to dress a little nicer for Thanksgiving dinner.

She couldn't quite pinpoint what she was nervous for, but something about the weekend felt ominous. Maybe it was the fact that she was bringing a boy home for the first time, because although they weren't actually in a relationship, it still felt like Max was introducing her boyfriend to her parents. That in itself was enough to make her anxious, but she tried very hard over the course of the morning and early afternoon to get that thought out of her head. They may have been flirty together, and the attraction toward him was back, but Max and Loki weren't dating, so she needed to relax.

There was also a fairly small part of her that was worried about Loki's reaction to her family and her childhood home. As much as they irritated her from time to time, she loved her parents, and she worried Loki may not be able to see how cool they are beneath the layer of awful Dad Jokes and Mom Nitpicking.

Plus he was going to see pictures of her in that awful, awkward teenage phase where she had pretty bad skin and braces… and a terrible choice in fashion. So, there were a number of things that made her want this weekend to be over and done with already. Max couldn't deny the fact that she was a little excited to have definite time alone with her roommate in a setting where they would be forced together with minimal distractions. It certainly wouldn't be good for her resurging crush, but at least she would enjoy herself. She already had a selection of movies lined up for tonight, followed by lots of other silly things that she and Nolan usually did on Thanksgiving… None of which had been shared with Loki yet, but she was sure he would also enjoy.

Well, he wouldn't be given much of a choice, so he would either have to enjoy them or be a miserable ass for four days.

"Did you get any of those extra burger sauce packets?" Loki inquired as she buckled herself in. She shot him a look and saw that he was already well into the large bag of McDonald's food.

"Yeah, shove your face to the bottom and you'll find the Big Mac sauce," she told him, pointedly nodding down to the way he somehow managed to fit both arms in the bag during his quest. He seemed to attack it with a little more dignity now, and Max snorted. After shooting their apartment one final look, Max rolled her car gently out of the vacant parking lot, and then turned out onto the main road.

Masonville was quiet as they drove through, and she spent some time fiddling with the radio station until she tuned into something she liked. The habit normally drove Loki insane, but he seemed too engrossed in his burger to care about her song selection. When they flew through the final intersection of the town, Max snatched the bag of fast food off his lap and set it on hers, eyebrows up as he tried to protest with a mouth full of food.

"I seem to recall that I actually bought this," she mused, shoving her hand in and grasping a handful of fries, "and I'd like to have some before it's gone."

"I wouldn't have eaten the whole thing," he grumbled lightheartedly, smirking at her when she looked at him skeptically. "See, I left all the…. French fries for you."

"Yeah, and you managed to eat both burgers," Max laughed in disbelief. "Did you chew any of that, or did it just go down whole?"

"Chewing is trivial," Loki joked, and she saw him turn the heat down a little out of the corner of his eye. "It wastes time."

"And, you know, saves you from choking," Max commented, slowing the car at a stop sign. She leaned forward, spotting several trucks barreling down on them, and opted to let them pass before carrying on to the first of many country roads that would bring her home. She heard Loki suck his fingers clean noisily before crumbling up both burger wrappers and then tossing them in the backseat. She munched on the remainder of the fries happily, eyes following each truck as they raced by, and when it was finally clear, Max pushed onward.

"So," he started, smacking her hand away when she tried to change the radio station again, "are your parents the only ones I'll be meeting this weekend?"

"Yeah, thankfully," she replied, her stinging hand back on the wheel. "I don't think you could take the entire family in one go… but, just a warning…" She trailed off, trying to find a way to put it without making her parents seem too weird, "They're a lot to take at first. Well, not really, but mom nags and dad has a whole arsenal of bad jokes that he likes to toss around."

"Are you embarrassed by your parents?"

Max tried not to watch as he unzipped his jacket and wriggled out of it, knowing she would definitely drift into the other lane when she saw him in his crisp button-up shirt.

"No, not really," she told him as she forced her eyes back on the road. "I mean, yeah, sometimes, but everyone is. Just… give them a chance to warm up to having you around the house."

"I go with no preconceptions, I assure you."

"Yeah, you say that now," Max chuckled. When a song she actually liked started, she reached forward to turn up the volume, and then hissed when he slapped her hand again. "I'm turning it up, not changing it!"

"Well, I can never be too sure," he sighed, turning his gaze out to the vast fields and scattered clumps of trees on his side, most of them covered in a very thin layer of dirty now. "You're very fickle, Max."

"Whatever," she remarked, and she heard him chuckle softly at the response.

At this point in her life, the drive between Masonville and Eastmont was something she could do without actually paying much attention to the road. She knew all the stops, turns, lane merges, and sneaky shortcuts necessary to cut the forty-five minute drive down by about ten minutes. However, Max wasn't necessarily in a rush to get anywhere today, but the thickening clouds above might force her to take the few shortcuts anyway.

"Do you think I could drive for a bit?" Loki inquired after a lengthy silence, nothing but the radio humming between them. She glanced at him and his eyebrows shot up, a rather charming smile forming out of nowhere on his lips. "I'll be extra careful…"

Max glanced up in her mirror to check for cars lurking behind her, and then nibbled her lower lip in thought, "Well…"

"You said-"

"I _know_ I said I would teach you," she said quickly, shaking her head, "but it seems a bit slippery today."

"Yes, and it was last night too, but I was fine."

"Don't pressure me," Max whined, which earned her another laugh. However, every time she looked at him, he had that stupid giddy grin on his lips that made it impossible to refuse him anything. She sighed dramatically, and then shook her head again, "Well, I guess the only place we can end up is a ditch."

"Excellent-"

"But if you put my car in a ditch," she warned dangerously as she pulled over, "I will leave you out here to die."

"Fair trade-off," Loki quipped as he undid his seatbelt, hurrying out of the car the moment she brought it to a smooth stop. Seriously, guys and their love for cars were a bit ridiculous. Max hesitated for a second or so, her hands wrapped tightly around the wheel as she watched him cross around the front of the car, but she gingerly eased out when he opened the door for her.

"Don't speed," she ordered, poking him in the stomach sharply enough to make him grunt. "I'm not afraid to leave you out here."

"You're a terrible teacher," he said as he clambered into the car. "Fear is not conducive with good learning."

"Fuck off and put your seatbelt on," Max snapped, pointing at the belt menacingly as he slammed the car door. She raced around to the other side of the car and slid in just as another car came up behind them. "No, wait until he passes."

"But-"

"No."

Loki sighed noisily, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as Max buckled in. Once the car was at a safe distance up the fairly straight, empty road, Loki's head swiveled in her direction, and she nodded. However, the car went nowhere, even when he slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, and he shot her another look.

"Parking break," she chuckled, making a show of tugging it down as he glared. "I figured you'd want to book it once you got in the driver's seat… No more than fifty, understand?"

"No fun at all, Max, no fun," he cooed, batting his eyelashes a little as he steered the vehicle back onto the road. "You have such little faith in me… Another sign of a poor teacher."

"Maybe the student should stop being cocky."

"It's hardly being cocky when one is skilled," he commented smoothly, and Max folded her arms when he looked at her, the teasing obvious in his voice. He grinned when her eyes narrowed, and she found it hard to even pretend to be irritated with him. After all, he was right – he seemed to be perfectly able to drive a car with minimal guidance, which made her think he might have fibbed when he said he hadn't driven one before.

"Okay, well, we're going to practice not crossing over into the other lane," Max said quickly when she felt the car start to drift. "I know there's no one here, but you can't use both lanes."

"That's where I find driving ridiculous," Loki told her as he steered back into the appropriate lane. "Why can't I drive wherever I please?"

"If everyone did that, the roads would be a clusterfuck of scrap metal and wheels," she insisted after she took a quick glance at the speedometer. "Slow down a little… just ease off the gas. You don't need that much pressure to make the car go."

"It hardly feels like it's going at all," he droned. He then proceeded to play with the signal switches, eyes on the dashboard as different buttons lit up. Max reached over hastily and turned the wheel as they started to drift toward the ditch.

"First rule," she told him in a flustered tone, "is that we keep our eyes on the road. You can play when we stop."

"There seem to be a plethora of unnecessary gadgets here," he commented as he turned the windshield wipers on and off, "and none of them seem to be useful in defense."

"Defense?" Max snorted, and she saw him grimace a little. Maybe that was more of an inside thought than one he wanted to express verbally. "What do you think this is? A Bond car?"

"Well," he started, wrinkling his nose a little as he tried to readjust himself, "I thought… How do you even sit in here? My knees keep knocking against the top here."

"It's because you're a giant," Max laughed. She cleared her throat awkwardly when he did not return with the usual amused grin, and then unbuckled her seatbelt. "You have to adjust the seat… Here, I'll push it back for you, but I'm not doing much else because I'm taking over soon."

"But-"

"We're coming up to the turn off, and you have no idea where to go," Max reasoned. She glanced up in the mirror; there were so many tidbits and lessons she _should_ be telling Loki about driving, like always looking in the mirror and checking for a blind spot, but that was for a real teacher… She was just giving him a feel for being in a car. However, he clearly did _not_ need an adjustment period like most did – he was a natural behind the wheel.

It wasn't until she was propped up on her knees and leaning across the car that she realized to anyone outside it might look like she was about to give the driver a… well, a good time. Her cheeks tinted a tad at the thought, but as he glanced up at her, she ducked down and pushed on the small handle beneath her seat, which immediately propelled Loki back. He groaned happily, and then grinned.

"I feel like I can breathe again."

"Okay, relax," she told him, smirking as she settled back into her seat. "You're not that much taller than me."

"I've got at least a head… possibly more."

"And that's why I called you a giant."

"It was really clever of you," Loki droned. "I thought if I ignored it, you might not elaborate on it… and yet here we are."

"I'm witty as fuck."

"Another classic example," he chuckled. "Can I expect more of those gems over the course of the weekend?"

"You're feisty today," she said as she pointed to the side of the road. "Now push the lever to your left up… Yeah, that turns on the signal, and pull over."

"Already?"

"You gunned down the road way faster than the speed limit," Max insisted, still pointing to the side of the road. "We need to turn off soon… Over. Now."

"Can I drive again soon?"

"I don't know-"

"Well, I don't know if I can pull the car over until I get an answer…"

"Are you holding me hostage until I agree to let you drive?"

"Possibly."

She rolled her eyes, and then sighed, "Fine! We'll do a couple of hours on these sorts of roads again next weekend… Happy?"

"Sometimes."

"You're such a queen," she laughed, and then pinched the portion of his arm closest to her. "Pull over."

"All right, all right," he laughed. "Relax."

Max waited until he pulled over before she breathed again, as he ventured incredibly close to the edge of the ditch. When she tumbled out of her side of the car, she found she was on a bit of an angle, and decided Loki was going to practice on solid, flat ground from now on – she didn't need to call a tow-truck to come rescue them because Loki parked in a ditch.

She hurried around the front of the car, then let out a shriek and leapt away after Loki slammed on the horn when she was directly in front of him.

"Hey!"

"I was merely testing all the buttons while we were stopped," he insisted, hands up in self-defence when she yanked open his door. "I was not aware-"

"Get out," she ordered, still a little shaken despite the grin on her lips. "You're done for the week."

Loki was quite slow in unbuckling his seatbelt and stretching his long legs out of the car, but he hurried along when Max gave him a push. When she was finally back in the driver's seat, she felt like she was sitting in the trunk. Her eyes casually flicked to Loki as he passed along the front of the car, her gaze appreciative as it swept across his legs, and she quickly readjusted the seat so that it was suited for her. However, just as Loki reached for the door on his side, she tapped on the gas, propelling the car forward just out of his reach. She glanced in the side mirror and smirked a little, and continued to inch forward every time he was close enough.

"Max!"

His cry was a little muffled, but she could still hear the frustration in his tone. After another minute or so of her slightly cruel game, Max finally stopped, and Loki yanked the door open violently enough to make her laugh.

"So, we're not going to be a dick and honk the horn at Max to make her scream anymore, are we?"

He snapped his buckle in moodily, and she raised her eyebrows.

"Well?" she repeated, "Are we?"

"_No_," Loki sneered, "I'll behave."

"Good boy," she said with a smirk, turning the radio back up and easing back onto the road, thankful that there hadn't been any cars or trucks rumbling along during their games. Try as he might, Loki couldn't stay upset with her, and by the time they had turned off at the appropriate spot, he was asking her questions about a ridiculous advertisement with a cartoon cow on it stationed in some farmer's field.

Eastmont was even smaller than Masonville, and most people never left. They had one town center, an elementary and high school, and a recreation center with the only communal pool around. There were a few streets with houses around that main center – urban dwellers – and the rest were scattered along country roads with a good distance set between each property. Many of her friends growing up had been the children of farmers, and she usually felt a little left out that her parents did not rise at dawn and drive a tractor. However, she wasn't completely out of the loop; when she was six, her dad rented out the large plot of land behind their home to the neighbouring dairy farm, and the cows usually wandered right up to the property line to graze. When she was older, Max realized the smell was enough of a farm experience for her, thank you very much.

However, if Loki's slightly disinterested expression indicated anything, it was that Eastmont did not get any more exciting the longer she lived away from it. She pointed out the small grocery, the card shop, and the antiques store, as they were places where she knew the owners personally.

"You spent almost twenty years of your life _here_?" he asked as they rolled by the old movie theater, the slush noisy beneath her tires.

"Yup," she sighed. "I'm not going to defend it… It's small, boring, and never changes, but it's home, you know?"

He nodded when she glanced at him, but returned to judging the old buildings shortly after. Max fiddled with the radio dial as they carried on through the one main street, hoping to find a local station that wasn't full of static, and only stopped when she heard Loki sigh pointedly.

Her house was only a five minute drive out of the main section of Eastmont, but it took about thirty seconds for them to be surrounded by open fields, most covered in a dusting of wet snow, and the occasional house here and there. As they closed in on the property where she spent her childhood, her stomach knotted uncomfortably. The trees thickened on either side of the road suddenly, as they always did, and Max spotted her hidden driveway long before Loki did. She turned in, switching off the radio as they moved slowly along the bumpy, unpaved driveway, winding several times through the trees. Moments later, they emerged onto the property, and she smiled at her old two-storey home.

It used to be a one-storey place belonging to some hermit, but when they moved into it in her childhood, her dad had that old house destroyed, and they rebuilt this one in its stead. At the time, it had been a fairly modern; square, squat, covered in dark brick and stone with a green door and white trim, a garage of similar style off to the left. The porch had always been her favourite spot to sit when the weather was nice, though the fire pit in the back took precedence these days. The main floor consisted of the standard kitchen, formal dining area, and the living room. A grand staircase ran up the center of the house, which lead to the second floor where one would find three bedrooms and an office space.

Seeing as Nolan was officially moved out of the house, her parents had changed his room into the TV room, which her mom preferred – apparently she snacked too often on commercial breaks when the TV was in the room right next to the kitchen.

When Max finally set the car in front of the garage and shut it down, she took a deep breath to prepare herself for what lay ahead.

"This seems nice," Loki commented after a moment or so of silence. "Will I get to see the inside sometime soon?"

"No," she remarked, shooting him a look. "You're sleeping in the garage for the weekend."

"Adequate heating?"

"Of course not."

"Excellent… Just what I like."

"All right," she laughed, unbuckling her belt and ripping the keys from the ignition. "Let's get the introductions over with."

They departed at the same time, but Max was the one to detect the sound of howling dogs first. Actually, the barking was preceded by the familiar stretch of a screen door opening at the front of the house, and she heard her mom encouraging the dogs outside; seeing as Loki was the one closest to the house, he was the one swarmed first. Max snorted loudly as she watched her roommate almost get knocked off his feet as a pack of about six full-grown huskies, all of whom howled and yipped in a greeting she usually warned her friends about beforehand.

"Yeah, so my parents casually breed dogs on the side," she laughed as he struggled to keep from either stumbling over or being jumped up on and subsequently falling. "Probably should have warned you…"

"Yes, that you have been the decent thing to do," he managed to get out, but she could see a hint of a smile on his lips as the dogs dispersed in her general direction.

Max wasn't all that keen on animals in general; small ones, like birds and rodents, were sort of just gross, and larger ones were manageable. However, she always had a soft spot for the dogs that were raised in her house, as she got to know their personalities and quirks without worrying they might bite her. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she was never this comfortable with dogs outside the family. The breeding had started initially with Labradors, and then moved onto huskies in her teen years.

Loki lingered with the oldest female, who stood happily against him as he rubbed her side, her tongue lolled out happily. Meanwhile, Max made a big display of jumping about and greeting each dog with more enthusiasm than she would ever give her parents, which pleased them immensely. Once they had exchanged greetings, the dogs ventured off toward the car, sniffing the ground around it and bounding off across the property. They usually didn't have to worry about them wandering off, but she was sure her mom would send her and Loki out to round them up before they went to bed.

"Hey, Shilah," Max cooed as she approached the dog at Loki's side. "How's my best girl?"

The dog whimpered upon her approach, more of a happy sound than anything, and she laughed as her thick tail smacked against Loki's legs.

"She's very… affectionate," Loki managed as Max snuggled down into the dog's face.

"Shilah's the oldest… Our original little mommy that we got when I was ten," she explained. "She'll probably be our shadow all weekend… She misses me and Nolan when we leave."

Max glanced up at him and saw his eyebrows knit together; clearly he had never had a family pet, but Max could understand, because she wouldn't give a shit about anyone else's stories about their animals either.

"I thought I would let the dogs have their way with you before I came out," her mom called from the porch, and Max grinned at her as she waved at them, wrapped snugly in a bright green housecoat. "You all right there, Loki?"

"Fine, thank you, Mrs. Wright," Loki replied automatically, producing a friendly, though someone strained, smile as he returned her greeting with a wave of his own. He had asked Max what he ought to call her parents should he address them directly, and she told him it was better to be too formal than informal.

"Well, grab your bags and get in before you catch your deaths," her mom ordered sharply, and then disappeared back inside.

It was only then, after she had said something, that Max remembered just how freezing it was outside; she genuinely hadn't even felt it in all the excitement of the day. Well, not excitement… just a lot of loud noises so far while Loki smiled awkwardly to the side. Once they were alone again, save the plethora of dogs lurking, Max popped the trunk, and then shoved her bare hands in her coat pockets as Loki grabbed both of their bags. He followed her in silence around to the front of the house, and then up the rickety steps of the front porch: a porch on which there had been many high school gatherings, and under which the occasional family of raccoons had lived.

The warmth hit as soon as they were inside, and Loki quickly closed the front door to keep the heat in. As usual, Max kicked her boots off onto the fairly neat mat near the heater, which would keep them nice and warm for the next time she needed to put them on.

"How was the drive up?"

"Oh, uneventful," Max replied as she slipped out of her coat. Her mom held out her arms to take both her and Loki's jackets, and she heard her roommate rustle around a little behind her as she handed it over, "Everything still looks the same."

"Well, you can't expect any different," her mom noted, blowing a piece of stray hair from her face as she gathered up the coats. "I thought we could put Loki down in the living room tonight… Dad bought a pullout sofa a few months ago that he wants to put to use."

"Sounds good," Max said decidedly as she glanced over her shoulder at him. "Up to your standards?"

"A spot on the floor would be up to my standards, to be honest," Loki remarked, and Max rolled her eyes a little when her mom chuckled. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Mrs. Wright."

"Oh, you can call me 'Nancy', if you'd like," she laughed, waving off the formality as she slammed the jam-packed closet closed. "Why don't you give the boy the tour, and I'll get some coffee going?"

"Yum."

She watched her mom, who looked a little thinner than she normally did, disappear down the hall into the kitchen at the far end of the house, which left Max and Loki standing together in the front entryway. Max gestured out, arms extended to either side, and Loki chuckled.

"This is very nice, Max," he told her as he stepped around her to examine the collection of family photos around the foyer's mirror. "You look so young in all of these…"

"Yeah, just wait," she told him somewhat begrudgingly. "You'll see even younger ones around this place, and definitely more embarrassing. They've got a shrine to Nolan and I in the TV room upstairs."

"Well, show me around then."

Max had expected to find more of a tease in his tone as soon as they entered the house, but she was surprised to see that he genuinely wanted to be shown around. The look in his eye when their gazes met was purely sincere, and he followed behind her graciously from room to room on the bottom floor of the house, hands clasped behind his back, and nodding along whenever she pointed something out. She showed him the dining room first, which led off into the kitchen where they found her mom leaning against a counter and hovering over a cookbook while a kettle boiled. The back porch and open yard could be saved for a later time, and they soon ended up in the living room where Loki would be sleeping.

"So, this is it," she told him. "We'll set up the bed later tonight."

He wandered about the interior of the room, which wasn't much more than a few dark brown couches, a fireplace, and a writing desk situated in the front window. He lingered in front of the mantel for a moment, scrutinizing another row of embarrassing family photos of her and her cousins at various ages. Many people might have found the pictures overbearing, but Max and her brother had become accustomed to her mom's incessant need to document every moment of their life when they were kids; at this point, photos everywhere was nothing new. However, it did make the house look a little too cluttered sometimes, and it was a decorating technique she did not plan to carry on into her living spaces.

"This will do," Loki told her after several very long moments of examining the room, and then smirked when she scoffed. "It will certainly be strange not hearing you get up to go the toilet at three in the morning this weekend…"

Max's cheeks tinted at the thought, and she cleared her throat in an effort to detract from the blush, "Yeah, well, you're still going to hear me, because the upstairs bathroom is right above you."

"Oh, it'll feel like home then."

"You're fucked," she told him frankly, which earned her a bigger grin. "Come on, I'll show you my boudoir."

"Your _what_?"

"Bedroom."

"Why couldn't you just say that?"

"I'm trying to get you a little more cultured," Max laughed as she led him up the creaking staircase, the bannister full of painted-over nicks and indents from years of use.

"You certainly are _not_ the one to culture me," she heard him mutter as he followed her, pausing every so often to look at more awkward pictures of her along the staircase. "Why are there so many pictures of you and your brother?"

"Because they're my babies," Max's mom insisted as she passed by below, a bag of trash in hand. "Kettle's boiled when you're done."

"Thanks," Max sighed, turning away as she disappeared out the front door. "My mom likes to have a reminder of basically everything we ever did floating around… Trust me, I'd rather there be nothing."

"No, this is nice," he insisted, catching her easily when she slipped a little on the top step. "It's good to see love between family so openly."

It was only then that Max realized all of the Wright family goodness might force Loki to recall whatever reason drove him away from his family, perhaps dwell on the reasons they had very little contact, and that certainly hadn't been her intention. However, he shot her a reassuring smile as he passed, and her back tingled from where his hand had steadied her, which effectively put all worries from her mind. The next stops on the tour consisted of the narrow upstairs hallway, the new TV room (also known as Nolan's bedroom), a quick peek in her parents' bedroom, and finally her old room.

"Now, this looks remarkably familiar," Loki commented as he nudged passed her and into her old bedroom.

"Yeah, I basically just took the style of this room and transferred it to our apartment," she chuckled as she followed him in, hands on her hips as she surveyed the room. It looked the same as ever, though it was pretty obvious her mom had been in to do some cleaning at some point.

Just as her room in Masonville, Max's bedroom had a lot of purple and blue scattered everywhere, both in the paint and in the art she had accumulated over the years. There was a single bed against the wall in the middle of the space, and a plethora of old pictures tacked up in some sort of a collage. There were blue and white Christmas lights strung up around the small window and nearby closet door. She paused at her desk, which definitely looked much tidier than how she left it, and then smiled. Even with her reservations for returning, it was definitely good to be home for a little while.

"Well now, what is this?"

Max looked back quickly, and her eyes widened when she saw Loki had discovered her high school diploma. It wasn't necessarily well hidden, but she had forgotten that her mom had framed it and put it up. Panicked, she crossed the room in a few long strides and wrapped both hands around his face from behind in a horrible attempt to keep him from seeing anything, which made him stumble back.

"You didn't see…" She trailed off when she saw the ridiculous grin on his lips, and she sighed, "You saw it, didn't you?"

"I saw the first two letters," he insisted as he enclosed his hands around her wrists, giving them a slight tug. "You might as well let me see the rest of the name…"

She pursed her lips, and then pulled her arms back as her cheeks tinted. Of course her high school diploma would have her actual name on it, and _of course_ she hadn't thought to shove the evidence under a pillow as soon as she arrived.

"Nannette."

"Yup," Max groaned. She stood next to him, arms crossed, and glared at the name. "It's not the worst name ever, I'm aware, but I just… I don't like it."

"Nannette…"

"_Yes_."

"Nannette-"

"Stop saying it!" Max snapped, elbowing him sharply enough to make him laugh, "Can we just pretend we never saw it?"

He looked down at her, and she raised her eyebrows. He then wrinkled his nose a little and returned his gaze to the framed piece of paper, shaking his head.

"It leaves a sour taste in my mouth to look at you and say _that_," he told her, and Max smirked. "I can't forget it, but I won't use it."

"Good," she breathed, "because I won't respond to it."

"What about Nanny? Or Nettie?"

Loki managed to catch her fist before it slammed into his ribcage, and he laughed noisily as she tried to wriggle free.

* * *

It hadn't taken Loki long to decide that going away with Max for the weekend had been a good thing.

Over the course of the week, he had handed in assignments, worked pointless hours at the bookstore, and even cleaned up someone else's vomit. The thought of getting out of that horrible town and going to a place where someone else would cater to him was incredibly appealing, and despite the nervous jitters that were slightly infectious from Max, Loki might have actually considered himself excited. Whenever one was a guest in someone else's house, they were always treated much better than the host would do for their own family, and Loki was looking forward to taking four blissful days in which someone else would cook all of his food, clean his dishes, and wait on any other needs he might have. Plus, getting away from his overly flirtatious manager and the hub of irritating twenty-somethings who loitered around Masonville were definite benefits.

He certainly did not care which sort of holiday he was celebrating, but the fact that it revolved around eating massive helpings of food was quite appealing. Besides, the thought of spending some quality time with his roommate in a place where they were not hampered by the stresses of college life seemed to have its benefits. Loki, most of all, was simply curious about Max's upbringing. He wanted to see where she had come from, what shaped her to become the woman he had grown to enjoy over these past few months.

Unfortunately, that ventured into a territory was still sensitive, and Loki quickly realized that this might become a challenge as he watched Max interact with her family. At first they had been distant, as her father was still at work and it seemed as though her mother was more preoccupied with getting dinner ready for everyone that evening than spending much time socializing. So, that gave Loki a chance to examine the home of a middle-class family, and _finally_ learn Max's true name. 'Nannette' wasn't quite the awful label his roommate had made it out to be, but after calling her 'Max' from the beginning, it seemed that her real name was almost too frivolous and girlish. Therefore, aside from some light teasing afterward, Loki promised not to use it in seriousness, nor would he spread the word to other ignorant souls back in Masonville.

It was shortly after that that her father returned home from work as a teacher at the local high school, and Loki quickly saw the family dynamics that he had craved since boyhood. Obvious and open displays of affection passed easily between all three of them, and it continued to shine through whenever anyone spoke of Max's brother off in some other country for the nation's army. It would have been easy to slip in the background and simply watch the family interact, but Max's father – Max – threw a curve into his plan the moment he arrived at the house. The man was, apparently, a Scot, and had grown up in the country near to Loki's fake origins.

"Oh, yeah, didn't I mention that?"

Loki resisted the urge to snap at Max when she said it under her breath, a casual shrug accompanying the statement; no, no she hadn't, and because of that, Loki was constantly on edge for questions about his home life from a man who might actually see through his lies.

Even with the new tension in him, Loki found it relatively simple to fit in with conversation. Max clearly learned to be social from her parents, who chattered incessantly whenever they were all in a room together. His only reprieve came when Max offered to show him the backyard while her mother, Nancy, prepared dinner. They had quite a large plot of land, but it was fenced off and rented to a neighbour for his cattle, which Max promised to show him the next day – Loki did not hold back his biting sarcasm over the event, which earned him a coy nudge from his companion. It always seemed to marvel him just how well she downplayed his sour comments with a laugh and a smile, and he wondered if she realized most of the comments had actual sincerity in them.

No matter. It was very pleasant to be around someone who could stomach his cynicism without chastising him for it.

Once they had walked the outskirts of the fenced area, Loki and Max drifted back toward the house, and Loki held the door open for her to enter, which she seemed to appreciate. They returned to a kitchen caked in wonderful aromas, and at that point Loki was lost to the world. Nancy had produced some exquisite pork chops, grilled vegetables, and the fluffiest mashed potatoes he had ever seen. Somehow, he and Max usually managed to burn all three dishes whenever they tried to make them at home, so he knew this was going to be a treat.

As much as Max clearly disliked the way her mother poked fun at her cooking skills, she seemed equally excited to partake in a meal that wasn't burned on the outside and raw on the inside. Max's father joined them after they were all seated, having apparently just gotten off the phone with a panicked student, and apologized for his tardiness. He was a fairly small man – not what Loki had expected at all. After all, Max's brother seemed quite robust in all of his pictures, and yet Nancy and Max (the male version) were quite slim and roughly Max's (the female) height. Both had narrow faces, though her father had a bit of a larger nose, though the same brown eyes Loki had become accustomed to from his roommate, and a very similar laugh. The accent was a little difficult to wade through, but he seemed to manage for the majority of their meal.

If he wasn't talking, or pretending to listen to the never-ending conversation, Loki was stuffing his mouth. He returned for seconds _and_ thirds, which pleased Nancy infinitely.

"Well, I'm going to have to pick up some more food tomorrow for Sunday," the older woman chuckled, and he caught Max shoot him an appreciative look from across the table. "Do you have anything you don't eat, Loki?"

"If everything is cooked like this, there's nothing I won't eat," he remarked smoothly, and he heard Max's father snort.

"You say that now…"

"Easy," Nancy ordered, swatting her husband in a similar way that Max did to him – something that did not go unnoticed.

He stabbed at his mashed potatoes happily all the same, however, and savoured them the whole way down. If everything that woman made tasted this good, he ought to have four or five meals a day to compensate for the awful gruel he and Max usually produce together. He wondered if she felt the same, as she was well into her second plate too, and Loki was about to make some jest about their terrible cooking skills, but was distracted by a low whine from under the table. He glanced underneath and the dog that had shadowed them all night perked up a little, and then licked her lips.

"Shilah," Max warned. "Don't beg."

Loki couldn't quite understand having dogs around, especially in the same room where they dined. Actually, Loki had no concept of having dogs as anything more than hunting companions or protection, and the notion that Nancy bred them to sell as pets seemed even more foreign to him. She had gone to great lengths at the beginning of their dinner to explain how the business worked, and that they were in an off season now, so they had a number of adult hounds running amok before puppies arrived. It all seemed like nonsense to him – a fanciful hobby with no real purpose – but Loki remained politely interested through the entire speech.

"So, Loki," Max's father started, and he had to look at the man directly across from him in order to not lose any of the words, "where did you say you were from in England again?"

"I didn't," Loki replied, his exterior cool as he had the question posed that he had dreaded all evening. "My parents and I have a house up north."

"Oh, do you?" the man remarked, eyebrows shooting up as he chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, I'm from the south of Scotland… Where are you from exactly?"

"Cork."

Loki's lip twitched; he wasn't exactly sure why he had said it, but he remembered the city mentioned in some class as being from somewhere in that general area. The man's eyebrows shot up and the response, and Loki wished he had made more of an effort to research a plausible backstory.

"Cork?" he repeated, and Max cleared her throat. "Northern Britain… Cork?"

"Yes."

"Well, that sounds really nice, doesn't it?" Nancy remarked. "Do you miss home, Loki?"

"Sometimes," he replied earnestly, and he caught Max staring at him from across the table. He returned to slicing up the remainder of his pork chop with care, eager to save the best bits for last. Before Nancy could get another word in, which it was clear she was trying to do, Max spoke over her.

"It's hard to miss home when I'm here to distract you," she laughed. "Do you know what we did today? I've been teaching Loki how to drive…"

"Good God..."

"Dad!"

Loki eased back into his meal as the conversation drifted from his fake home to Max's ability to teach anyone to drive, which Loki definitely preferred. Even if that meant Max got a little flustered with her mother once more, he was pleased to have the attention deflected off of him. He vaguely heard the hound whine again from beneath the table, and when no one was looking, Loki slipped her a small piece of pork fat, which kept her quiet for the remainder of the meal.

* * *

"Why can't you leave the hounds outside?" Loki inquired as Max stuffed her feet into a pair of her dad's rain boots.

"Because the _hounds_ might run into some wildlife which are a little bit bigger than they are," she replied. Max still couldn't get over the fact that Loki flitted between 'hounds' and 'dogs', and for some reason it amused her every time.

"Well, survival of the fittest then, isn't it?"

"Stop it… We're getting the dogs," she remarked flatly, and then tugged him outside by the front of his sweater. Shilah followed closely, as she had all night, but remained on the top of the porch as the pair sauntered out into the front yard.

The treeline lit up under the bright glare of the porch lights, and the sky was still too clouded over to see any of the usual star constellations that loitered above her property. She couldn't spot any of the dogs right away, but she could hear them running about in the woods, and it was time to bring them in for the night. Normally, this would have been her dad's job, but seeing as he had already fallen asleep in front of the TV and it was barely ten o'clock, Max offered to do it with Loki.

So far, things had gone surprisingly well having her roommate with her at home. Naturally, there were a lot of jokes cracked at her expense, but making fun of her was the only thing Loki and her parents really had in common at the start. As she had expected, Loki was incredibly polite with her parents, answering all their unnecessary questions and even asking a few of his own whenever there was a brief lull in conversation. She had never worried about it being awkward, as by nature the Wright family had a tendency to talk _too_ much with guests over, but Max fretted over the assumptions her parents might make about the nature of relationship with Loki. However, they had nothing but positive comments to say when he disappeared to the bathroom after dinner; Max finally started to relax when they enjoyed a tart dessert in front of the TV.

The fact that Loki _was_ so good with her parents did nothing to help squash her feelings for him. Instead, they probably amplified tenfold over the course of the evening, mostly because he had been such a good sport through everything. Thankfully, he would be sleeping on a completely different floor from her tonight, and she could actually get a break to collect herself before hurdling on into the rest of the weekend.

"Shouldn't we be dangling some sort of raw meat to tempt them?" Loki inquired, his teeth chattering a little as he rubbed his arms. She smirked, but moments later also succumbed to the cold night air. Time to get this over with. Max quickly pulled a whistle from her pocket, and then blew it; Loki quirked an eyebrow at her when no sound came from it, but Shilah limped across the front yard to her side, shortly followed by six other bounding huskies.

"Ugh, God," Max muttered, wrinkling her nose at their muddy paws and snouts. "Can you run back inside and grab the towel that's by the door? Mom will probably slaughter me if I let them back in the house like this."

He disappeared soundlessly, and therefore left Max in charge of handling the all-too-happy dogs alone. She managed just fine, of course, but she had a few muddy paw prints on her back for her efforts. When Loki resurfaced on the porch, she called for the dogs to follow her, and then left her roommate in charge of guarding the door so that only the clean dogs got in. A few tried to barrel passed him, as they knew their food dishes would have been refilled at this point, but he seemed to handle the situation fairly well. When they were all taken care of, however, Max was covered in wet, muddy dog essence, and she glared down at her wrecked jeans.

"Well…"

"Yes, I see why people are so keen on keeping animals as companions," Loki droned as he slowly looked her up and down. "You're a mess."

"_Thank_ you," Max snapped, flicking the towel at him as she passed. "I hadn't noticed."

"Always looking to lend a helping hand."

"Fuck off."

Loki laughed as he shut the door behind him, and Max shook her head at the clamour now coming from the kitchen as all the dogs dug into their food. Why did her mom insist on carrying on with breeding? She never really made a lot of money from it, and the dogs were definitely not easy pets to look after. However, she knew her mom did actually enjoy canine companionship more than any other animal, and she always felt safer having dogs around on the property when everyone was out of the house… So maybe there was some logic to it after all.

"I'm going to go change," Max told her roommate as she kicked off her dad's boots, setting them neatly back where they had been by the front door. "If you want, we can set up your bed after?"

"Excellent."

And with that, Loki disappeared into the front living room down a nearby hallway, and Max darted upstairs to get out of her cold, wet clothes, skipping two steps at a time as she went. When she passed the TV room, she saw that her dad had disappeared, and judging from the soft lighting trickling out from under his bedroom door, she assumed he had now fallen asleep with a book in his face in bed, which made her smirk as she passed by.

Max quickly slipped into a pair of dry track pants and a v-neck sweater – couldn't look too grungy with all the butterflies in her stomach – and then hurried back down the hallway to return to Loki.

"I'm going to make myself a tea," her mom told her as she left the TV room, all of their dirty dishes piled up in her hands. "Would you guys like something? I can make some hot chocolate?"

"Oh, yeah, sounds good," Max agreed absently as she started down the stairs. "Do we have any marshmallows?"

"Are you still six?"

She pursed her lips, "Yup."

"Then we do," she heard her mom call as Max made a sharp left down a small hallway and into the downstairs living room. When she rounded the corner, she spotted Loki perched on the edge of the couch in front of the fireplace, his gaze fixed intently on the flames.

"Dad must have started that up before he went to bed," Max offered, nodding toward the mantel when he glanced up at her. Loki smiled a small smile, and she slowly crossed the distance between them before taking a seat beside him. She tucked her legs up under her, her elbow against the back of the couch, head resting in hand, and then nibbled her lower lip. This was the couch they were supposed to make up for him to sleep on, but for the moment she was actually happier to sit in the dimly lit room in silence, occasionally glancing up at Loki as he studied the fire.

"This is a very nice home, Max," he said suddenly, still fixated on the flames. "It must be very comforting to know you can always return."

"I guess," she sighed as she reached out and plucked a bit of fur from his sleeve. "I still think they should sell this place and downsize-"

"No," Loki insisted, leaning back against the couch and facing her. "No, you should never lose something like this… You're exceptionally lucky to have such a wonderful family."

"You say that now," she laughed nervously when he started to fiddle with the ends of her hair, his fingers barely there as he held her gaze. "I mean, tomorrow they'll probably put you to work, and then you won't have… so many nice things to say."

It was actually a little difficult to keep her train of thought on its tracks with him touching her, and the stupid romantic lighting definitely wasn't helping. Unable to keep his gaze for much longer without blushing like an idiot, Max turned back and grabbed the folded blanket on the armrest. She draped it across her legs, and her hands simply fell into her lap when she saw that he had inched a little closer. The blush she had tried to avoid appeared in full force when he reached up and cupped her face, his thumb trailing along her jawline. Max swallowed thickly, and then cleared her throat.

"Uhm…"

She trailed off when the corners of his lips quirked upward slightly, and automatically closed her eyes when he leaned in. However, when she felt no lips brush against hers, only warm breath on her skin, she blinked up at him. He was remarkably close now, and Max bit back a smile when she saw him gazing down at her lips. Gone were the thoughts about their living situation, and the fact that he had hooked up with Erica a month ago. Her mind had fallen blank, and instead of analyzing the situation, or possibly taking the mature route, Max tilted her head upward and kissed him.

It was a tentative gesture, at first, her lips very softly pressed to his, but that soon changed when his hand tangled in her hair as he nudged her closer. The tips of her fingers hesitantly danced along his cheek, and she let out a happy sigh when they mutually deepened the kiss, her arm snaking around his neck in an attempt to feel closer to him.

It was… It was perfection in all its corny glory, and it was exactly how she might have pictured it if she ever thought about kissing Loki.

"So, I didn't know if you guys wanted the marshmallows inside the hot chocolate, but one fell in accidentally, so I just dumped the rest in…"

Max pushed herself away from her roommate hastily when her mom appeared in the doorway, two mugs in hand, and then tried to recover her breathing with her face glowing bright red.

"Oh…" Her mom looked between Max and Loki awkwardly, and then cleared her throat, "I'll just… I'll leave these here."

"Thanks, mom," Max said quickly as she deposited the mug on the nearby mantel, no doubt fully aware of what she had just walked in on. "Good night."

"Yup, night."

Holy _fucking_ Hell. Max stared pointedly at the now empty doorway, her mom's footsteps quick as they sounded up the staircase, and then groaned before burying her face in her hands.

"Come now, don't do that," Loki chuckled as he tugged her hands away. "I'm sure she suspected it already."

"Yeah, but-"

He cut her off with another kiss, and Max moved easily with him as he pulled her across the couch and into his lap, arms circled around one another, hot chocolates forgotten.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**OMG HAY. So yes, this took a long time to get out, but I tried to make the length worthwhile. Since we last saw one another – i.e. since my updates – I had my show three nights a week for the month, and then a week with four papers and a midterm, followed by more midterms and more performances… It definitely ate into my updating time. However, I also got my novella submitted last week, which is exciting! Things are going to slow down after this week, so I'm going to try to get back into my usual rhythm once the dust has settled. **

**So, be very thankful I like the romance developing here… For some reason, I just want to make Loki suffer, and that usually extends into his romantic affairs too. However, that could still be in the cards, but you know… for now it seems quite peachy. I had initially planned this scene to be written as them being super awkward after Mom's random intrusion, and then be weird, but in the end I like this reaction better. We'll get a Loki POV next chapter to explain himself. **

**Max's father, in my head, looks like Robert Carlyle. Don't judge me. He's making an appearance in the sequel to this story too, so he'll be around for a while. And totally in the next chapter to possibly call Loki on his bullshit answer… Cork is in Ireland, doofus. **

**Also, for some reason, I picture Loki with this weird affinity for animals. Not really sure why, and I don't think he knows why either, but somehow it works in my head. Also, no offense to anyone actually named 'Nannette'... I don't mind the name, but it's not something Max would ever like - simple as that.  
**

**In all honesty, this chapter felt a little off to me. I don't know what it was… possibly the length (which might lend itself to some mistakes along the way, which I tried to catch while editing quickly), possibly the scenes, I DUNNO, but it felt weird. I hope you guys liked it, and maybe I'll get my groove back with the next chapters – all of the Thanksgiving weekend chapters are planned, which I shall hopefully start soon. **

**Much love to all my reviewers, the people now following me on tumblr for this story specifically, and all those that asked about an update! I hope I lived up to your satisfaction! Love!**


	23. Saturday, wait

Max woke that morning with a ridiculous smile on her lips. She sighed happily and snuggled further into the depths of her covers, eyes unfocused as she recalled the previous night.

After the stupidly awkward encounter with her mom, she and Loki spent the better part of an hour by themselves on the sofa, she on his lap, alternating between locked lips and small snippets of softly spoken conversation. Of all the acts of intimacy out there, Max liked kissing the best. _Yes_, sex was more physically pleasurable when people did it right, but there was something about being snuggle up on someone's lap and being perfect content to kiss until her lips were swollen that seemed more worthwhile. Guys may think differently, of course, and she had absolutely no clue what was on Loki's mind at that very moment, but Max didn't care. He seemed content to be there with her, and she was in a state of bliss, so that was all that mattered.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and when Max couldn't stop yawning during their fireside chats, Loki decided it was time to call it a night. So, Max groggily fetched him a few pillows and some sheets as he struggled to turn the couch into a bed. Apparently, he simply couldn't fathom where the bed portion lurked in the seemingly ordinary piece of furniture, and he seemed quite impressed when she showed him the easy transformation. The mattress was fairly lumpy, and there were certain spots where she could feel the spring beneath when they did a cautious testing of it, but Loki wasn't about to complain. He had the whole floor to himself, plus the dogs, and seemed perfectly happy after she dressed the bed to dive right in.

Halfway up the stairs, Max thought about the fact that Loki did not actually have a door to block off the living room, which meant he was probably going to get some large, unwelcome visitors at some point that night. The thought made her smirk, and she watched as Shilah hobbled down in his general direction; wherever she went, the rest were bound to follow… So Loki was going to have an awesome sleep.

By the time she got upstairs, her parents had already gone to bed, and she cringed a little when she spotted their door. Her mom must have already filled her dad in on what she saw, and Max prepared for bed that night bracing herself for the awkward conversation that was bound to follow the next morning. However, she also gave herself a bit of a pep talk – she was twenty-six years old, damn it. If she wanted to kiss a man in her old living room, then she could! It wasn't as though her mom had walked in on them screwing or anything, so it was harmless enough to just ignore.

Unlikely, but Max went to bed hopeful regardless.

The pleasant feeling carried on into the morning, and Max felt incredibly comfortable in her old bed, the tips of her fingers running along her lips as she recalled every different sort of kiss she had tried the night before. In all honesty, she had never actually thought about what Loki might be like as a kisser; for all these months, she had simply been attracted to him, and had perhaps stomped out any fantasizing for fears that it might be awkward the next time she saw him.

At this point, however, it was fairly clear that they were beyond the friendship mark, and that could venture into awkward territory. The thought made her stomach squirm uncomfortably, but Max also knew that they were able to put his bed together last night _after_ making-out as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, which she liked to think was a good sign.

When she glanced at the old purple clock on her nightstand, she saw that it was almost half passed nine, which meant her parents were definitely up and making noise in the kitchen. Although she knew Loki was a big boy and could look after himself, she wasn't about to make him sit alone with her parents awkwardly while she lounged around in bed. No, she needed to get up and face the music _before_ he showed his face, and hopefully calm the storm that her mom was bound to bring up _before_ he saw any of that crazy. She knew neither of her parents would care all that much; after all, they were still sleeping in separate rooms while they were here, but she figured her mom might be offended that Max hadn't given any indication that she and Loki were more than friends.

Well. She hadn't even known they were more than friends – not really, anyway. Therefore, how was she supposed to tell her mom anything? Whatever. It was time to deal with that mess and smooth it over while Loki snored away in the living room. As she rolled out of bed, she hoped that he was taking this weekend to catch up on his sleep, and she would have a good half hour or so alone with her parents before he even considered getting off of that lumpy mattress.

So, Max threw an old high school sweater on over her ratty old t-shirt and pajama pants. After a quick pit-stop in the bathroom to wrangle in her messy hair, she crept downstairs as quietly as she could, and then followed the sounds of her mom's voice into the kitchen. Sure enough, both her mom and dad were in there, wide awake, and leaning back against the counters with cups of coffee in hand; thus far, it was fairly routine.

"Morning, sweetheart," her dad greeted with a small smile, and Max grinned.

"That's an old one," her mom commented as she glanced down at Max's sweater. "I'm surprised it's still in one piece."

"Hey, I take care of my clothes," Max protested weakly. She then grabbed one of her dad's comically large mugs from a nearby cabinet, and proceeded to make a cup of coffee for herself. "How did everyone sleep?"

"That doesn't matter," her mom said quickly, cutting off her dad's answer. Max smirked as the man subsided to the background with a slight roll of his eyes. "_What_ did I walk in on last night?"

"I don't know, what did you-"

"Max," her mom pressed, a hint of a smile on her lips as her eyebrows shot up. "You didn't tell us you two were an _item_!"

"_Mom_," Max groaned, shooting her dad a bit of a pleading look as she added her hot water, "who says that anymore?"

"That's not the point-"

"Okay, okay," she started quickly, sensing one of her mom's famous rants geared up and ready to go. "Look, we aren't an _item_, okay?"

"It certainly seemed that way last night."

Her dad wrinkled his nose a little, and Max sighed.

"Right, that's the first time anything like this has happened," Max continued, holding up her hands to stop both parents from talking over her. "Look, he's a really cool guy, and I'm kind of into him, but I'm going to keep things casual because we live together, and I don't want it to be weird. _And_," she pressed further when she saw her mom open her mouth, "I don't want him scared off because my parents get all awkward around him. It was just a kiss… Whatever. I'm not a teenager sneaking a guy into the house, so can we all just be normal please?"

"I'm _always_ normal."

"Mom," Max said slowly. "Do _not_ talk to him about it. Don't mention it, hint at it, or make a joke about it. This is my business, and if anyone is going to talk about it, it's me and Loki-"

"Loki and I," her dad interjected, and then grinned toothily at her when she cast an irritated look his way. "I'm just trying to keep your grammar above par, college graduate."

"_Anyway_," she carried on, shaking her head. "Can we just… drop it, and wait for Loki and I," she shot her dad a look, "to sort it out?"

"I don't know-"

"We know it's _your_ business," her dad insisted, "but we just want to make sure you are being treated properly, you know?"

"Yeah," Max acknowledged, "but that's not really your job anymore."

"It's _always_ our job," her mom told her, downing the rest of her coffee quickly, "and you brought him here, so it seems like a good chance for us to make sure everything is going well over there."

"Guys," Max said stiffly, pointing a warning finger at both of them. "None. Of. Your. Business. Understand? Please don't make this bigger than it is…"

"You worry too much, sweetheart," her dad admonished softly, and she sighed. "We're better at this than you think."

Unlikely, but Max decided it might be easier to let the subject drop. She shrugged in response, and grabbed her mug; the liquid had cooled considerably, but it was still tolerable to drink. At the sound of footsteps in the hallway, followed shortly by a door shutting, Max proceeded to grab two bowls from the cupboard, and then rummaged around in a cabinet for some sort of cereal. She heard her mom stroll out of the kitchen, scraping her slippers along the tile and onto the hardwood as she always did, and then greeted Loki noisily in the hall. At least she didn't sound too awkward, but Loki's cheery response seemed to be a little off-key.

She frowned when she found no cereals to her liking in the cupboard, and then turned back to her dad with a box in hand.

"Fiber enhanced?" she questioned, eyebrows shooting up, "Really?"

"You don't get to pass judgements on my bowel movements," he remarked, his tone mockingly serious, and then nodded toward the doorway. "Morning, lad."

"Good morning."

Max felt her cheeks prickle at the sound of his voice, and she turned back to smile at him, forcing her eyes to stay on his face rather than wander his body appreciatively. It definitely didn't help that he was in a short-sleeved t-shirt, toned arms just slightly visible the farther up his bicep she wandered.

"Well, you look even _more_ attractive first thing in the morning here," Loki commented as he gave her a once over, and Max smirked. At least he wasn't being awkward; it was a fairly intimidating situation he was in right now, walking into a room with the woman he had recently kissed and her father hovering nearby.

"Rude," Max touted in return, shaking the cereal box at him. "No fiber enhanced cardboard for _you_."

"It's _actually_ not that bad," her dad interjected as he placed his empty coffee mug in the sink, and then filled it with water. "Try it."

"I'll make us toast," Max insisted as Loki crossed the kitchen to lean against the counter beside her, arms folded across his chest. "How did you sleep?"

"Well, the mattress was fine," Loki admitted as she flitted about the kitchen to prepare their breakfast, her stomach a mess of giddy excitement that they were playing cool with one another. "The dogs, however, seemed to think it was their mattress too…"

"Oh, shit," Max chuckled, and she heard her dad laugh across the kitchen.

"I tried to push them off-"

"That's a losing fight there," her dad commented, and she saw Loki nod from the corner of her eye. "If they beat me to the couch upstairs, I'm done for… Easier to get a spot on the floor at that point."

"Yeah, it's because Mom won't discipline them," Max argued as she shoved two pieces of bread in the toaster. "I mean, she had no problem yelling at us, but Heaven forbid the dogs get in trouble."

"Well, I think you and Nolan usually _deserved_ a lot of the flack she gave you." Max shot her dad a look, and he grinned, "All right, sometimes."

"My mother was never the disciplinarian," Loki admitted quietly, and Max glanced back at him, jaw clenched so that it wouldn't fall open. He rarely ever mentioned his family, and now that he had, he seemed a little unsure of where he was supposed to go now. Max swallowed when their eyes met, and although she could picture her dad twiddling his thumbs awkwardly behind her, she focused on her roommate, eager to hear more. Instead, Loki tapped the counter twice, and then nodded toward the fridge, "May I find something to drink?"

"Oh, yeah, we have some orange juice in there somewhere," Max told him, running a hand through her messy hair. The toaster finished with the bread, and she decided to give both to Loki, as he was technically the guest. "I'll have a glass too."

"Of course," her roommate muttered, "and where might I find those?"

"Here, I'll get them," Max offered. Her dad raised his eyebrows as she walked by him to grab a pair of glasses and some plates for their toast, and she shot him a pointed look. He shrugged, and then nodded toward Loki, now only one eyebrow up as her roommate rummaged through the overstocked fridge. Her eyes narrowed further, and she mouthed for him to 'stop' before standing up on the tips of her toes to reach the dishware she needed. She turned back just as Loki managed to find the carton of pulpy orange juice, and she directed him over to the counter with a smile. "I hope you like picking pulp out of your teeth."

"Always."

"Means it's healthy," her dad interjected, and she shot him another look.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Always have your best interest in mind."

"Do you want peanut butter and jam on these?" Max asked as Loki poured some juice into both glasses, all the while ignoring the fairly obvious way her dad judged them from across the tiled kitchen. Loki may not have noticed, or he was being incredibly nonchalant about it, but it was starting to irk Max a little.

_Yes_, it was her parents' house, and _yes_, her dad was bound to be protective, but he could let go just a bit; they were having breakfast in baggy pajama pants, not sitting in a hot tub half-naked under the moonlight.

"Please."

A somewhat stilted silence fell over the kitchen as she grabbed the condiments, punctuated briefly by Loki taking noisy slurps of his orange juice. She glanced back at her dad, and then nodded toward the door. She didn't want to make it weird, but Max figured she could use five minutes alone with Loki while not under parental scrutiny to assess if he was really acting normal, or if last night had altered their friendship in some way. Her dad, however, marched halfway toward the door, and then grabbed a banana from her mom's hanging fruit basket by the sink, and proceeded to peel it, still leaning back against the counter, eyebrows up.

For fuck's sake. Her eyes narrowed a little, and she then handed Loki his plate of breakfast. He grinned a grin that looked fairly genuine, and then shoved the corner of one piece into his mouth while she set two more pieces of bread in the toaster for herself.

"So," Max started, finally breaking through the bread munching and juice slurping, "Nolan and I usually go buy the wine for tomorrow night today… Want to do that after breakfast? The store usually runs out by the afternoon."

His eyebrow quirked upward, mirth in his eyes, and he cleared his throat, "Really?"

"Are you surprised?" she laughed, "This town is the size of our apartment."

Loki chuckled, and then nodded, "I suppose… I can't say I know much about wines."

"Well, that works out for the best then," her dad interrupted before she could say anything further. Max ground her teeth together and looked back at him. "I thought I might borrow Loki to help chop some wood in the back… You know, for the bonfire?"

"Loki's our guest, _Dad_," Max insisted firmly. "He doesn't need to-"

"I threw my shoulder out this week playing dodgeball with my sophomores," her dad continued, stepping up beside her and speaking directly to Loki now. "Max and her brother have always done a fire before bed the night before Thanksgiving… something their mother did, but I think I may have some trouble with the axe today."

"It's fine, we don't have to have it-"

"It wouldn't take long," he pressed on as Loki continued to chew the somewhat large hunk of toast in his mouth. "Max, you can pop round to the store and be back by the time we finish."

"_Dad_-"

"No, that seems fine," Loki told her, shooting her a reassuring smile. "I should probably earn all the delicious food your wife is going to make for me anyway."

"See, good sport, this one is," her dad laughed, clapping Loki on the arm as he strolled out. "I'll have a quick shower, and then we can get to work."

"Excellent."

Max let out a huff as she watched him stroll out of the kitchen, and then hurried out after him, ignoring the toaster's signal that her bread was done. She ended up at the bottom of the stairs, glaring at her dad's retreating figure, and he finally turned back and cocked his head to the side. She wanted to tell him off, insist that she and Loki could have used to alone time to assess where they stood, but the words didn't quite make it to her lips.

"Get a haircut, hippy," she snapped, gesturing up to her dad's thin, chin-length hair, and then stalked back to the kitchen. When she returned, her tension eased away when she saw that Loki had not only finished his toast, but was currently making up hers, albeit somewhat sloppily. A soft smile touched her lips, and she crossed her arms over her chest as she watched him finish. When he turned back to her, plate in hand, she sighed, "You know, you don't have to help him-"

"It's fine, I promise," he insisted as he crossed the distance between them. He then forced the plate into her hands, and her cheek pinked noticeably when he kissed it. "I'm going to get dressed."

"Okay."

She blinked at him as he sauntered down the hall, and then disappeared around the corner, leaving her alone in the empty kitchen with a plate of toast. Max glanced down at it, and then smirked; he really needed to work on his peanut butter to jam ratios.

* * *

Loki stared out the kitchen window, glaring at the grey clouds that hung overhead. There were dozens of thoughts floating around in his head, and the last thing he wanted to do was to cut wood outside in the cold. He would have rather gone somewhere to pick out wine with Max; he had no desire to discuss what had happened the night before, but he would rather simply interact with her normally to show there was no need for any kind of conversation of that nature. He may want to kiss her again, as it was quite enjoyable, but he certainly didn't want to _talk_ about it. Max hardly seemed like the type of woman to fixate on these things, but there was always a small chance that she might – perhaps it was a good thing her father had held him back?

He sighed noisily, and then rubbed the sleep from his eyes. In all honesty, the mattress had been awful, and with the dogs constantly shifting out, Loki barely got a wink of sleep. However, Max's family was just so damn charming that it was difficult to be snarky with them over the little things. He might hint at something to Max when they were alone, mostly because he knew she could take it, but he decided being polite to her family seemed like a priority if he wanted to have a six course meal tomorrow. Now, he realized he may have sullied that by kissing their daughter in the dark and getting caught, but with the friendly atmosphere that met him in the morning, he assumed things were fine.

He hadn't the slightest idea what had possessed him to kiss Max. There they were, sitting together in front of a fire, and Loki had been lost to the flame. He couldn't count the number of times he and Thor had a fire shared between them, usually before bed. It was a ritual they carried on from childhood to their adult years, and seeing the fire there in the small human mantel – nothing like the grand fires he had seen in Asgard, mind you – made Loki oddly reminiscent. In fact, seeing family interact in a pleasant way had already skewed his feelings, so he almost felt vulnerable. Yes, that had to have been it: Loki was vulnerable and in an odd place from the fire memories and silly family jokes, and he was powerless against Max's whims when she settled down next to him with her lovely lips and charming smile.

…

No. No, Loki kissed Max because he wanted to kiss her. His natural state may have been godly, but he was not immune to desire or to the need for affection. Stuck in this human form, _everything_ felt amplified, and although he had a better grasp on his extreme level of arousal, it seemed as though something was missing from his life. He and Max had something of a friendship – well, no, they had a fairly strong friendship in remarkable time, actually – and when he had looked at her, the flames highlighting her features in the dark, he wondered if what was missing might be easily solved by a kiss. He had, of course, known she would be receptive to him, which took away the fear of rejection that came with most intimacy. The first kiss came out of curiosity to satisfy something inside him, and those that followed came because he thoroughly enjoyed the first one… despite the interruption.

He hadn't thought too much about the kissing, aside from some brief musing as he stared out at the unhappy weather outside, and he hoped that Max had felt roughly the same. After all, they had had a pleasant enough time getting his bed ready afterward, which he assumed meant that she had no regrets for what had transpired.

"All right."

Loki perked when he heard Max's father approaching, and he turned back at the sound of nails clacking against the floor. Max Senior (the only real way he could separate the pair in his head) sauntered into the kitchen with the herd of mongrels behind him, and he crossed quickly to the back door.

"Ladies and gents, after you," he ordered, and Loki stood back as all six bounds barreled through to get into the outdoors. Afterward, Max Sr. tossed a pair of worn, thick gloves in his direction, which Loki only just managed to catch. "I found a pair of Nolan's old work gloves for you… I'm sure they will fit."

"That's very considerate," Loki remarked as he quickly slipped a hand into one to gauge the size. "Thank you."

"Not to worry," the man commented. He gestured for Loki to follow, and he hurried on out the door after him. "We can't have you ruining those hands before dinner tomorrow… It's pure torture when you can't get into Nancy's turkey."

"I can imagine."

"Now, have you ever chopped wood before?"

Loki smirked when they came to a halt at the side of the house, a set of rather nice tools set on hooks in the stone. His eyes wandered along several small, though obviously effective, axes, and then shrugged.

"I have some experience with an axe," he informed the man, and then smiled slightly when he was handed the larger of the two weapons. He held it with both hands, adjusting his grip as he eyed the sharp metal blade: single bit, thick shaft, lightweight, sturdy. With the other man's eyes on him, he resisted the urge to swing at nothing, preferring instead to simply let it fall to his side in one hand.

How many creatures had he slain with an axe in his lifetime? He grinned at the thought. It certainly hadn't been his weapon of choice, but in a pinch he was more than happy to pick one up and lodge it into someone's skull.

"We don't need to do a lot," Max Sr. insisted as he started toward the far side of the fenced-in property, Loki following closely behind. He had to be a good head or so taller than the man, and yet Loki could quickly appreciate his ability to command attention with simply a look. Perhaps it was the fact that this was Max's father that forced him to behave, but for some reason, Loki felt the need to impress him. "I think we've got a few big logs we can use to keep it going tonight, and then we'll have a pile of smaller ones to burn…"

"Yes," Loki commented, eyeing the neat pile of thick logs. "Do you want me to split them?"

"Yes, there's a way to go about it," the man told him. Loki watched him lift a round, sizable log piece onto a small bench, and then gesture for the axe, which he handed him. "You want to hit the parts that are already splitting… Do you see?"

Loki leaned closer as the shorter man pointed the tip of the blade along a small crack, and he nodded.

"Good," Max Sr. continued. He then raised the axe above his head, no regards for whatever wound he had brought up earlier, and slammed it down, splitting the log perfectly in two. "Now you have a go."

Loki's eyebrow quirked slightly as he handed the axe back, and he quickly took up the older man's position as Max Sr. replaced the split chunks with a new piece of tree. He nodded down at it, and then took a step back as Loki raised the axe and brought it down with all his might. Unfortunately, he only just managed to miss the split, and while the blade sunk into the wood, it did not split it. Glaring, Loki yanked the axe back out, struggling only a little, and huffed.

"Try again. Go on."

He resisted the urge to direct his glare up at Max's father, who did not deserve it, but shouldn't speak to him like he was a simpleton. However, on his second attempt, he managed to cut the log clear in half, though it took a considerable amount of effort, and he fully anticipated exhaustion after getting through the entire pile.

"Well done," Max Sr. praised, clearing the chopping block and fetching another piece. "You'll get the knack for it."

"I can see why you wouldn't want to do this with a hurt shoulder," Loki commented, shooting the man a bit of a skeptical look. Somehow he still managed to lift and carry heavy pieces of wood just fine. He merely shrugged in return, and then rubbed the right shoulder apathetically.

Sighing, Loki brought his axe up and aimed for the split in the log, hitting it almost directly this time. From there, it became fairly routine, and he quickly realized this would have been a wonderful way to get out much of his pent-up rage that he had been suppressing over the months here as a human. His eyes narrowed when he went to work on one particularly stubborn, throwing all of his might into it, and when it finally split, he grinned – though the smile did not quite reach his eyes.

"Now, where did you say you were from again?"

Loki glanced up as Max's father knocked the split wood out of the way with his foot and replaced it with a new log. He licked his lips, his brain quickly running through their previous conversations, and then cleared his throat, "Cork."

"Ah, that's right," the man muttered, taking a step back and folding his arms as Loki had another go at the umpteenth log. "Cork, England."

"Yes," Loki grunted, wincing a little when something spasmed in his back after the last swing. "That's right."

"Unless I'm mistaken, Cork's in Ireland."

Loki faltered slightly, and then glanced up, the axe resting at his side, "You've never heard of a small town called Cork in England?"

"In the twenty years I lived and traveled through Scotland and Britain, I can't say I have," the man remarked stoically.

"Well, one cannot possibly know every single hamlet in a nation, can they?" Loki challenged, eyebrows shooting up. "Can you tell me every town in this country?"

"Why are you lying?"

Loki opened his mouth, ready to fire back some witty retort, but he quickly closed it when he saw that his jests would fall to deaf ears. He clenched his teeth together, and then stared off across the vast field beyond the fence. He could run for it, potentially start again, but that seemed to be a little more work than he was willing to put into this human life after all the work he had already done.

"It's complicated."

"Tell me."

He sighed again, his breath foggy from the cold, and then stared back at the man, "My family life is complex. That's about as much as I'm willing to tell, I'm afraid."

The man took a step toward him, and Loki's grip tightened on the axe, "Are you in trouble with any sort of law official, national or international?"

"No," Loki remarked with a frown. "I'm here because my… my father sought to punish me."

He took another step closer, and Loki actually had to crane his head down to hold his gaze, "Have you ever been convicted of a crime?"

"No."

"Do you have any intentions of committing a crime?"

"_No_," Loki snapped. "I was dishonest about where I hail form, but that does not reflect on me and why I am here."

"And how do I know if you're telling the truth?"

"You don't," Loki told him, leaning down a touch, his voice low, "but if Max trusts me, I suppose you might give it a try for her sake."

The man stared up at him for a moment, and then turned away, shaking his head, "You raise an adequate point."

Loki smirked, and then knocked his split logs aside before grabbing another one himself. Hopefully this would be the end of it, and Loki managed to get through another four logs before Max's father spoke again.

"You tell _her_ the truth."

"I'm sorry?" He paused again, head cocked to the side, axe hanging limply in his right hand, "Who?"

"Max," the man clarified. The previous stiff quality of his voice was gone when he turned back to face Loki, and instead he saw a weariness in the older human's face, "You tell her the truth before you break my girl's heart."

Loki blinked back the stunned expression, and then shook his head, "I don't mean to do that, sir."

"Yeah, we never do, do we?"

Loki frowned, and then handed the axe over to Max's father when he held out his hand.

"I'll take over for a bit," the man muttered, and Loki took a seat on a nearby wooden stump. He wrinkled his nose when he realized a little too late that the wood was wet, but once he had accepted his fate, he watched the man hack at the wood, "injury" completely forgotten.

* * *

Today had actually been a pretty fantastic day. Despite the fact she had to go wine shopping alone for the first time in many years, Max returned to find Loki and her dad having a cup of coffee in the kitchen, her mom hovering nearby with lunch already on the go. It seemed that the peace had been kept in her absence, which made her happy. However, she did not want her roommate to spend the entire weekend with her parents, and managed to drag him to safety after lunch. As expected, they ended up in the TV room, and had a fairly lengthy _Game of Thrones_ marathon, as Loki hadn't watched any of the seasons and she considered it blasphemy.

Although she had wanted to bring up the kiss with him, Max couldn't quite find the way to do it. The topic didn't fit naturally into any of their conversations, and even when there was a lull in discussions of profanity and head chopping, Max felt weird just throwing it out there. Before they knew it, almost five episodes of the show had passed, dinner was ready, and all hope of talking about it was gone for the day. Luckily, there hadn't been any weird tension lurking around, but he _did_ sit on the very far end of the couch, and the only things that could possibly touch were their toes, and that was if Max reached for it. She tried her best not to be too put out, because they were having a really good afternoon without any of the sexual tension being explored, but she wouldn't have said no to a little cuddling.

Dinner had been fine, aside from the fish that her mom cooked – which Max _never_ grew to like – and dessert was promised by the campfire. Every Thanksgiving, no matter the temperature outside, Max and her family would settle around a campfire with marshmallows. This year, even without her brother, proved to be no different. Long after the sun had set, Loki and Max unearthed the fold-out camping chairs from the shed, and her dad got a large fire going. The dogs sniffed around for a while, hoping to get a toasted marshmallow, but eventually drifted back toward the house when the heat became too much. Meanwhile, Max and her dad shared the joint camping chairs, while Loki sat across the fire from her, and her mom constantly shifting whenever the wind changed the direction of the smoke.

The night was definitely freezing, but once she was bundled up and placed in front of the fire, all of that seemed to fade away. The conversation was intermittent at best, and aside from teaching Loki how to properly roast a marshmallow, not much had been said. Instead, it seemed the entire group, still fairly full from dinner, preferred to simply enjoy the fire.

"Oh!" Max said suddenly, a thought coming to her as she reloaded her roasting stick with a fat marshmallow, "I ran into Garret at the store today."

"How is he?" her mom asked as she readjusted the thick blanket around her. "His mom brought us a bunch of jams the other week… Is he still studying architecture?"

"Kind of hard to switch out of a master's program, Mom," Max chuckled, but then gave a nod when she shot her a look. "Yeah, he's still doing that."

"Is he still with that girl? The one from out of state? What was her name again?"

"Tiffany," Max remarked, "and yes, they are still together."

"Oh, good for him," her mom sighed happily. "He's such a nice boy."

"Is he the one who threw up on my couch at your graduation?" her dad asked suddenly, and she heard Loki chuckle from across the bonfire.

"Yup, still Garret, Dad," Max sighed. He liked to clarify that with her _every_ time in case she forgot about the party she hosted without his permission that ruined one of their couches. "Anyway, he invited us to play a game of football tomorrow afternoon… The weather is supposed to be really nice. You up for that?"

She glanced at her roommate, who was currently lamenting a completely charred marshmallow, his eyebrows knitted together. Smirking, she grabbed her marshmallow and chucked it at him, just managing to clear the fire and bounce off his leg.

"What?"

"Football," she repeated. "Tomorrow. Do you want to play? Garret and a bunch of guys we knew in high school are meeting up to play a friendly game."

"I… I don't know what that is," Loki told her, wincing when he touched his burnt marshmallow. "I've never played."

"It's similar to rugby in some ways," her dad offered, and she watched Loki force some look of recognition across his features.

"It's fine," Max said quickly, before Loki tried to defend his lack of sporting knowledge to the man who lived in front of the TV for soccer _and_ football seasons. "I'm really bad at it, but it's all for fun, and occasionally we have a beer. Or two. Or five."

"If you come home drunk, you don't eat," her mother threatened. Max smirked.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," she insisted earnestly. "Garret invited us, but we don't have to go."

"No, we can," Loki told her after he tossed his ruined marshmallow on the ground. Shilah suddenly appeared from behind him, and snapped it up before her mom could discipline the dog for lurking. Max watched the old dog scuttle back to the house victoriously, and disappear in the shadows.

"Cool, well I'll get him to pick us up tomorrow," Max said cheerfully, dipping deep into the pocket of her coat to take out her cell phone. She somehow managed to get the text across with her hands in mittens, a word or two misspelled, and then grinned.

The group settled into a silence once more, and time seemed to pass with infinite speed, because before she knew it, her parents were calling it a night. Her dad had finished his beer, her mom was falling asleep in her chair, and apparently it was long passed their bedtime. She and Loki wished them both a good sleep, and then returned their attention to the fire, which had gotten smaller as time went by. Moments later, Loki had relocated from his chair to the one attached to hers, and she tried to contain her smile when his arm slipped around her.

"So," she started, "I couldn't help but notice you struggling to get a good marshmallow."

"It's a science the way you people brown them," Loki muttered spitefully, which made her giggle. Max leaned down and pulled one of the last fluffy wonders from the plastic bag at her feet, and then stabbed it onto the end of her metal roasting stick. She then leaned forward and placed it near the coals.

"You can't keep shoving them in the top part," she insisted, rotating it slowly to get an even burn. "You have to let them burn by the embers… Otherwise you ruin it."

"I could have used that tip eight marshmallows ago," he told her, and she shot him a grin. It wasn't necessary to keep the marshmallow there long, and she soon brought it up on the tip of her roasting spike, and then blew on it.

"See?" she murmured, plucking the brown marshmallow off and holding it out for him. "Perfect."

"Modesty becomes you, Max," he told her softly. Her eyes narrowed a little, and she ended up shoving the marshmallow into his face; it was sheer luck that it smeared somewhere near his mouth. He grunted, retracting the arm that was once around her to wipe the smudged insides off his cheek and lips, and then licked his fingers. "That was _much_ better than anything I made."

"It's a talent."

Max swallowed thickly when he swooped in, his lips finding hers with ease, and her eyes drifted closed. She hadn't realized this was what she had been hoping for all day, even if it was simply lips pressed against lips. Her hands came up to touch his face, mittens and all, and he pulled back to smirk at the red, itchy fabric.

"You seem to have many talents."

_Cheesy_. She felt her cheeks tint at the sentiment, and then shrugged, "I _am_ gifted."

It didn't quite come out as smooth and confident as she had hoped, stuttering over the wording a little, but he grinned all the same. Max leaned into him as he placed his arm around her again, and winced as she tried to readjust herself over the armrest between their chairs. It was only a little stabby – nothing she couldn't ignore.

"So how are you doing?" she asked, "You know, with the family and all? They aren't too much, are they?"

"No, this has been fine," he told her, his arm moving from her shoulder to her back, and then finally beneath her blanket and around her waist.

"Cold?"

"This weather is ridiculous."

"I _told_ you to wear gloves."

"But then I wouldn't be able to do this…"

Max laughed when she felt him pinch her waist awkwardly through her thick winter coat, and then tilted her head up to kiss his cheek.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**I'm so glad you are all so pumped that Loki and Max are **_**finally**_** getting together. I'm pumped to finally do a romance that isn't super angst-ridden/has ulterior motives. However, I'm going to warn you that no romance is smooth sailing, and we have bumpy seas ahead. **

**SECONDLY. I LOVE ALL OF YOU FOR GETTING ME OVER THE 300 MARK FOR REVIEWS. I HAVE NEVER HAD A STORY HAVE THIS MANY REVIEWS BEFORE, AND IT SEEMS VERY NECESSARY TO EXPRESS MY LOVE IN CAPSLOCK BECAUSE YOU ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL, SUPPORTIVE, AND AMAZING. I LOVE YOU. **

**Someone mentioned in one review that Loki has lost his destructive nature, and I agree. I plan to NOT make him this sappy love-bot, but fireside making-out seems to do that to him. I wanted a little of his previous anger to come forth in the wood chopping – not sure how successful I was – and more will be demonstrated in a rag-tag football game in the next chapter. Which I am pretty pumped for. PS: Max is not an athlete. Get ready for embarrassing times on all fronts. **

**That's all I got for you today! I do post updates on my tumblr about how chapters for this are coming along… so even if you don't follow me, you can always take a peek and see what I've got on the go, which will give hints about when new chapters are to be posted. **

**LOVE YOU ALL. **


	24. The Steve Rogers Interlude

Steve glanced at his wristwatch, and then double-checked the time with the clock hanging over the back of the bar: still four in the morning. With the patrons of the sleepy English pub filing out as the minutes passed by, he figured it was time to call it a night. He hadn't meant to stay there this late, but he had drifted from conversation to conversation with a group of elderly fellows who lived up the road with no thought for the hour, and once they left, he sat watching the fuzzy television above the counter without a single thought in his head.

He had definitely needed this trip. After he finished up with the Avengers earlier in the year, he hopped on his motorcycle and toured the nation. Unfortunately, wherever he went, rumours of the reclusive Captain America followed, and after he inadvertently started a bit of a riot in Tennessee, he decided he needed to find somewhere else to travel. It was England that really called to him, and even though he knew there was absolutely zero chance he might run into Peggy on the street one day, that hope lingered at the back of his mind.

It had been fruitless, naturally. After almost three months of traveling around the United Kingdom on a rented motorcycle, Steve had yet to find anyone even remotely related to the woman he fell for all those years ago. It might have been for the best, but it certainly didn't make it any easier. He missed the structure the army gave him; even S.H.I.E.L.D. had something to offer him in that arena, but Steve was also aware that, for his own sanity, he needed to be alone. He needed to learn how this modern world worked, because the vague crash course from Natasha and Clint had done nothing but confuse him.

He watched 3D movies, road on rail cars that didn't actually touch the tracks, and played with I-Pads in retail stores. Steve learned at his own pace, and could do whatever he pleased with both his military pension and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s recent deposit keeping his bank account full. It was a life anyone would have wanted, but he had a feeling that he could only carry on for another month or so. He met a plethora of wonderful people along the way, but he needed to touch back with reality sometime soon, and start establishing solid connections in in his life.

After another glance at the time, he downed the rest of his drink, and then bid a slightly tipsy farewell to the staff. This was his second and last night drinking in the pub, and he seemed to be a favourite with the older women who ran the bar. They laughed and wished him a pleasant night, and insisted he try to walk his motorcycle home, which he told them was quite the good idea indeed. He grabbed his brown leather jacket from the coat-rack near the door, slipped it on, and then stepped out into the brisk night.

The cobblestone streets were quiet as he fished his keys from his pocket, boots softly treading on the damp ground as he approached his motorcycle. However, he quickly realized something was off. Hurrying forward, Steve's eyebrows knitted together as he crouched down beside his bike, and he ran his hands over the tires: slashed. Someone must have really put some effort into that, because he had gone out of his way to find thick enough tires to manage any sort of terrain.

Shaking his head, he stood and stared at the bike with his hands on his hips; slashing someone's tires was personal. Someone could have easily stolen the bike and hawked it for a pretty penny somewhere in another county, and yet they damaged it instead. His jaw clenched as he went through the acquaintances he made in the small village over the duration of his stay, but nothing he could think of had been negative by any means. Unless this was a random act of violence, Steve knew to be cautious of the darkness around him.

He bent down once more to examine the laceration in the rubber, but then quickly straightened when he heard a car door slam somewhere nearby. The vacant street may have been dimly lit, but Steve could easily detect the outline of a man moving toward him: tall, wide-shouldered, dark clothing. He frowned, and then casually stuck his hands in his pocket and decided to take a walk along the row of houses away from the bar, wondering if he might pick up a tail. However, as he turned, he saw another man strolling toward him at a similar pace. He looked between the approaching figures, and then hopped up onto the curb and disappeared into the alley behind the pub. Once out of sight, he ducked behind a garbage disposal bin and waited, crouched and ready.

Footsteps thundered down the alley, and he tensed when they stopped. However, before he could leap at his followers, the garbage bin slammed into him, as though someone had kicked it. Steve rolled out of the way, wincing when the bin grazed his leg, and was then quickly on his feet. Arms up, position defensive, Steve found no time for words as the first of the two men threw themselves at him. He managed to get a few solid punches to the gut and face, but they definitely weren't going down like any ordinary man.

Just as he threw one of them off, the other went straight for his midsection, tackling him to the ground soundly. He expelled a puff of air, shocked to be winded, and then lashed out at his attacker's face, slamming the palm of his hand into the man's nose. He heard the crack, but the man gave no indication of feeling any pain. Instead, the fellow head-butted him harshly, forehead to forehead, and Steve felt the back of his skull break open on impact with the pavement. His momentary daze was just what the men needed, and one soon had him up on his feet, arms forcing Steve's behind his back. He blinked away the fog once more, shaking his head to regain his focus.

A flash of metal caught his attention, and Steve kicked out as the other attacker came at him with a lengthy, thin knife. He managed to nail him right in the chest, but that only deterred the man for a moment, and the attacker holding him tightened his grip. The entire ordeal was carried out in silence, aside from Steve's pants and grunts, and that would have made any man feel unnerved. However, survival was the only thought on his mind, and as the assailant came at him again with the knife, clearly aiming for his chest, Steve managed to twist himself forcefully enough to slip loose and fling the other man back. As he intended, the knife was embedded in the one attacker when he looked back, though his partner showed very little remorse for the accident. Instead, he simply retrieved the knife from the man's ribcage, and then came at Steve again.

This time, the Captain simply ducked out of the way, then managed to grab a hold of the man's jacket, and hurl him into the wall. When the man staggered, dropping the knife, Steve went at him again, slamming his head into the brick until he was sure he was unconscious. With that accomplished, he dropped the body and staggered back against the opposite wall, allowing his heavy breathing to slip out for a moment.

What in God's name had just happened?

Body a little battered, but no worse for the wear, Steve crouched down to examine the knife. He frowned when he saw engravings along the blade, but when he touched the handle, something shocked him painfully. He hissed and withdrew, sucking on the sore finger as though to remove the pain. This was no ordinary weapon, and with everything he had seen in the future, it wasn't something he could ignore. As he heard one of the bodies rousing nearby, he removed his jacket and used that to scoop up the weapon, and then made a run for it.

* * *

Loki awoke with a start, his breathing heavy and head angry. He blinked away his nightmare, a hand on his forehead as he sat up and glared across the dark room. It couldn't be more than two or three in the morning, and his sleep had already been terrible. Perhaps it was the fact that one of the hounds had taken up most of his bed, and it most certainly also had to do with the terrible quality of his mattress. However, the nightmare definitely had something to do with it; he hadn't had such vivid dreams since he was a boy, and it unnerved him that he couldn't recall a single thing of it the longer he sat there.

Shaking his head, he eased off the awful mattress and managed to find his way out of the living room after stepping on only two hounds. He ignored their cries; if they didn't want to be stepped on, perhaps they shouldn't sleep in a place he was destined to cross in the dark!

The bathroom wasn't too far off, and Loki navigated the dark, silent house with ease. Once inside, the bright white light making it difficult to see without squinting, Loki turned on the tap and waited for the water to warm. Realizing that it was a little louder than necessary, he tugged the door shut behind him by the handle, and then froze when the round brass knob came off in his hand.

He held it out in front of him, turning the water off delicately as he stared at the object. Had he… Had he simply pulled off a weak doorknob, or had his strength come back to him? For a moment, he was too stunned to consider the second option, and he quickly looked around the small bathroom for something else to test his strength on. However, when he found nothing that would be too easily concealed, his gaze returned to the knob. Head cocked to the side, he attempted to force the object to levitate, a magic trick had he been able to do in his early years of training.

Nothing.

The brass knob simply sat in his hand, staring back at him tauntingly. His eye twitched, and he closed his palm around it, squeezing it with all his might until it crumbled as though it were one of Max's charred cookies. He let out a surprised laugh, and then tilted his hand to the side to allow for the dusty particles to fall.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**The title makes me picture the Captain doing a song and dance routine. Which is awesome in my head. **

**So yeah, I just wanted to do this very brief update before I got to work on the football chapter, which is still coming. I felt too sappy after the last chapter, so I thought a fight would clear me. **

**EDIT: Slight edits made after I had Steve being tipsy at the beginning... TOTALLY forgot about his inability to get drunk. Thanks for those who pointed it out!  
**

**MUCH LOVE TO ALL OF MY AMAZING REVIEWERS FOR THEIR WONDERFUL FEEDBACK! **


	25. Sunday always comes too late

"I don't understand why we can't just let the hound wander home… He must be nearby."

"Look, my mom's in a mood, so let's just get this over with."

Max heard Loki sigh noisily, and then grunt when the branch she let fly smacked him presumably somewhere nearb his face… possibly the neck, based on their height difference. She smirked to herself, and carried on as though nothing had happened, whistling every so often to catch Gus's attention. The stupid dog had been locked out the night before; it wasn't difficult to do, seeing as ten million other dogs _also_ lived in her parents' house. However, her mom was pretty upset to discover that he had spent the whole night outside, and subsequently sent Loki and Max on a mission to find him after their fairly early breakfast.

Garret planned to pick them up around ten, but based on his slightly drunken text messaging from the night before, Max expected him to be there around half passed. The game was supposed to start at eleven, and sometime around noon her various old high school friends planned to break out some beer and light snacks before returning home to their families for dinner. As far as she knew, none of his other roommates would be making an appearance, which meant she was in for a Ben-free weekend, which was kind of a relief. She really did like the guy, but having Loki hone in on his territory even more than he already had might be a bit too much.

She had tried to explain the complexities of football over breakfast that morning, but after her dad repeatedly interrupted to point out that she was telling her roommate something wrong, she figured she would just let Garret explain it. After all, Max lacked form and true athletic ability, but she could run and catch. Generally, she was in charge of booting it down the field and catching a ball if someone managed to throw it to her, and that was all she cared about. Well, and not getting tackled. In high school, it was been pick-up games of touch football, but as the boys grew to men, things got a little rougher, and that meant touching evolved into tackling. When girls – women – managed to actually play, Max generally noticed they weren't tackled quite as harshly, but she was definitely going in a pair of unattractive sweats and a few layers of terrible shirts to counteract the mud.

Shockingly, the weather had taken a turn for the better, and when Max and Loki scuttled outside with warm cups of coffee in hand, they were moderately surprised at the temperature. The sun was up and out in full that morning, and the ground was squishy when they tromped through toward the treeline. Max hoped it stayed for the sake of the game, as it was never fun to play in the bitter cold, and the weather had actually boosted Loki's spirits a little.

He was in the weirdest mood that morning, and Max couldn't quite put her finger on it. As far as she knew, everything had been fine when they went to bed the night before. They had kissed a little on the staircase before disappearing to their separate rooms, and yet he sat across from her at breakfast with a slightly uncomfortable glow about him.

Also, the doorknob was missing from the bathroom he had been using. He claimed to know nothing about it, which struck Max as a little odd, but her dad guessed that one of the dogs had finally torn it off. Apparently, they were destructive when bored. The issue was dropped when her mom agreed, and suddenly realized Gus was missing, and then all of a sudden Max and Loki were outside with their coffees.

They strolled along quickly, him behind her, and she squinted through the thick trees in an attempt to spy white and black fur. The dog wouldn't be stupid enough to wander too far from the place where he got free food, and she had a sinking suspicion he was under the porch. However, her mom had been really insistent that they check the woods first, and in her rush Max had forgotten to grab the dog whistle on the way out. Instead, she had resorted to shouting the dog's name across the silent wood, and thus far had only spooked a family of squirrels.

"So, do people get hurt in this… football game?" Loki inquired as she stepped over an unearthed root.

"Sometimes," she told him, "but I think they'll go easy on you because it's your first game."

"I don't think you understand how the male species works, Max."

"What?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder when she heard him chuckle. He flicked out at her high ponytail, batting the hair playfully.

"If it's your first time doing _anything_ with a group of men," Loki clarified as he now wrapped his hand around her thick hair and gave it a sharp tug, "then they're merciless."

"_You're_ merciless," she blurted awkwardly, the words tumbling out in the place of something witty when he released her hair and stepped around her. He grinned again as he passed, and Max absently tried to readjust her small ponytail with her one hand while clutching at her coffee cup with the other.

"Sometimes."

"Well, you don't have to worry about anything," she insisted as she hurried to his side. "They aren't going to be total dicks the entire time."

Hopefully.

"Oh, I'm not concerned for my safety," Loki mused after taking a small sip from the pink polka-dotted mug in his gloved hand. "I'm concerned for _them_, you see."

"Because of your terrible, terrible strength?" she offered, quirking an eyebrow when he looked at her, "As I recall, I had to open someone's jar of pickles before we left this weekend-"

"Well, I had to find a way to make you feel good about yourself somehow," he droned, and Max rolled her eyes. "I think you'll find I'm stronger than I look."

"Yeah, that's what every guy thinks," she muttered, eyes scanning the bases of the trees around her for a pile of fur. When that proved fruitless, she stuffed her nearly empty mug into Loki's spare hand, and then brought her fingers to her mouth. She heard Loki grimace when a shrill, slightly obnoxious whistle sounded from her lips, and moments later a yip responded. Shocked, Max's eyebrows shot up when a pile of dead leaves rustled nearby, and then smiled when Gus surfaced. "Come here, you jerk."

The dog trotted across the muddy ground to her, his belly coated in a layer of mud and leaves stuck here and there. Max crouched when he approached, and she heard Loki scoff as she brushed the leaves off and gave the dog a scratch behind the ears.

"Success at last," he sniped, tapping a finger loudly against his mug. "May we return now?"

"You're in a right fucking mood today," Max snapped, a little more harshly than she intended, and then forced a grin to compensate. "Yes, we can go back." She retrieved her phone from her pocket and checked the time quickly before shoving it back in, "And Garret should be here soon to grab us, so turn that frown upside-down."

"I'm not frowning."

"Well, you're in some weird… thing," she told him, taking her mug back when he handed it to her and quickly gesturing for Gus to lead the way back to the house. The dog bounded off happily, as if the invitation was just what he needed to return. "Is everything okay?"

"If you must know, I'm not sleeping all that well on the mattress," Loki told her stiffly. "I suspect I'm a little tired."

"Oh."

"What? No biting retort?"

"You could have just told me the mattress was uncomfortable," Max insisted as they stepped through the treeline. She watched Gus barrel toward the house, barking happily when her mom waved him in from the back porch. "I mean, we have stuff in the basement I can put on top of it."

"It's fine."

"I'll get something for tonight-"

"It will do for now," Loki told her tightly, cutting her off. Her eyebrows shot up. "It's only one more night."

"Look, you didn't have to come." He glanced off toward the field to their left, and she tightened her grip around the coffee mug, "I can always take you back to Masonville-"

"You jump to remarkable conclusions with very little prompting sometimes," he remarked, turning his head back to face her with a large grin on his lips. "I want nothing of the sort."

She was about to comment on how little _he_ knew of the _female_ species if her jumping to stupid conclusions surprised him, but he silenced her with a kiss: lips slightly parted, a hand at the back of her neck to tug her closer. Her eyes shut instinctually, cheeks aflame at doing this during the daylight in plain sight of the house. However, as quickly as he swooped in, he pulled away, and she opened her eyes to see him give her a once over before strolling toward the nearby fence. Max swallowed thickly and followed, a hand smoothing her hair down somewhat unnecessarily. Once at his side, she took the mug, which he dangled dangerously from the crook of his finger, and set it next to hers atop the fence post. In the distance, she saw that their neighbour had let the cows out.

"Ugly creatures, aren't they?" Loki mused, wrinkling his nose a little when one shuffled closer – though still a good distance away – and began grazing at what appeared to be a fresh pile of hay.

"I don't know," she sighed as she leaned against the familiar wooden fence, the frame only just digging into her. "The babies are kind of cute."

"Women."

She nudged him as hard as she could in the side, and she heard him chuckle at her efforts. It wasn't much of a genuine chuckle, but she would take it for now. Instead, Max climbed onto the lowest rung of the fence, getting her up to roughly Loki's height, and then arched an eyebrow at him when he looked.

"Nolan and I used to play a game when we were really, really bored," she started, pausing briefly to retrieve her phone when she felt it vibrate. Garret was on his way, apparently. She typed a vague response and slipped it back into her pocket. "We used to see who could be the first one to get a certain cow to look at us."

"How thrilling."

"Well, there were bets placed too," she added, a smile forming at the memory. "I'll play you for the front seat of Garret's car… He's on his way."

"I don't care where I sit, Max."

"That's what people say who are afraid of losing," she teased. "Are you afraid to lose?"

"I think I concede to you _far_ too much," Loki muttered, his gaze staring almost beyond the field, unfocused and distant. "You do realize that, don't you?"

"It's because I let you touch my boobs."

She bit her lower lip when he looked at her sharply, his eyes widening, and she shrugged. Her attempt to appear nonchalant was foiled by the blush on her cheeks, which darkened when his eyes flickered down her chest for the briefest of moments.

"Yes," he muttered, smirking at her, "I suppose that's it." Max continued to stare at him pointedly. "_Fine_, I'll play your silly game."

"Winner takes the front seat," Max told him. "Okay, so the point of the game is to get one of the cows to look at you… We'll use… that one." She pointed at a group of cows nearby, singling out the one with the silly purple blanket on. "You have to get her attention by yelling the word 'moo', and-"

"This is ridiculous."

"This is a game concocted by ten year olds… just accept it," she snapped playfully. "First person to get the cow to look will win."

"I'm not yelling 'moo' across a field."

"Then you lose by default."

Loki sighed loudly, shaking his head as he glared at the cow. "Alright, you first."

Max squared her shoulders, and then cleared her throat: poised and at the ready.

"Moo!"

"Well, that wasn't very loud," Loki commented when they saw no reaction from their target.

"I thought I'd give you a fighting chance."

"How kind of you."

"Go on," Max prodded, poking his arm with her finger, "Moo a little…" She trailed off when that same finger hurt as she retracted it from him, "Did you do push-ups or something this morning? You are just… rock solid."

"Perhaps you've never noticed before," Loki commented absently, his eyes focused on the cow. "Moo."

"Put some feeling into it!" she ordered, gripping the top bar of the fence, "_Moo_!"

This carried on for an embarrassingly long period of time, and by the end of it, Loki was actually laughing, the sound genuine and true in the crisp morning air. Once he pushed through his initial embarrassment with the game, the competition finally began to heat up, and Max clasped his arm when her latest 'moo' echoed across the field. Several other cows had looked up, curious at the random noises coming from the pair, but they had yet to see movement from the one they wanted… until now.

"No, it's just readjusting itself," Loki told her heatedly, brushing her arm off. "I'm going to go again-"

"No, wait," Max hissed. They fell silent, and finally the cow looked up, chewing unattractively as it stared directly at them. Max threw her arms up triumphantly, and jumped off the fence in celebration.

"I let you win."

"You're the sorest loser I know," she teased, poking her tongue out at him when he glared.

"Guys… What the fuck?"

Both Max and Loki appeared equally surprised when Garret made his appearance known, and Max grinned cheekily. However, the grin soon disappeared, and was replaced with a look of confusion as she stared down at his hand.

"Are you… Are you eating pizza?" Max inquired, knowing full well that he _was_ eating a piece of pizza, as evidenced by the slice in his hand.

"Pre-game warm-up," he told her in all seriousness, and part of her wondered if her friend did it to keep his stomach somewhat settled; he looked pretty hung-over. "Let's go, children… The Magic School Bus is saddled and waiting!"

Max smacked Loki's midsection when he rolled his eyes.

* * *

Loki eyed Garret's large vehicle skeptically, but kept his opinion to himself as they approached it. He hadn't bothered to fight with Max to clamber into the front seat, seeing as she _did_ win their silly game, and dutifully took his spot in the back. It was as though he had his own personal driver that way, and why shouldn't he? With his strength returned to some degree, he was officially above them all again. The shattered doorknob – wrongfully blamed on a hound – was evidence that Loki was not mortal, and he never would be. To be mortal was to be weak, as he would demonstrate in this silly little match today against the men from Max's past.

He spent the rest of his night awake, flexing and testing his ability to lift unnaturally heavy items around the Wright household. When morning came, he was tired, but not as exhausted as he could have been for getting very little sleep – another sign that things were finally on the mend. He wasn't exactly sure what he had done to earn the All-father's favour again, but it couldn't have come at a better time. His venture on Earth may have been far more tolerable than he would have anticipated, and that was largely thanks to Max, but he wanted to be endowed with his rightful gifts and away from here as soon as he possibly could. His roommate complicated things, naturally, but he could come to a decision about her once he had dealt with the rest of his problems.

A part of him had contemplated leaving that morning. With his strength returning, surely his magic would come afterward, and he would be too powerful to remain amongst the little people. However, he was not wholly restored yet, and he had a sinking suspicion that his friendship and somewhat ill-timed budding romance with Max sped the "rehabilitation" process along. If he wanted to return to normal, Loki knew he would need to allow his relationship with the woman to continue on a natural, easy course; surely that would convince the All-father that he could appreciate the human race.

It wouldn't be difficult to continue to appreciate Max. She made him laugh, let him grope her, and hardly batted an eye when he was in a sour mood. However, the same could not be said for the rest of the human race; Garret's car was probably one of the most disgusting things he had ever seen.

It was an assault on all five senses when Loki slid into the back seat, and he wrinkled his nose.

"It smells like cheese in here."

"Ugh, Garret," Max groaned, sitting up quickly the moment she was in the front seat. "Why are there grapes on the seat?"

"Pre-game prep, guys," Garret remarked, snatching a plastic bag filled with fruit that Loki had never quite understood away and setting it on his lap. "The body needs to be ready."

"Are you still drunk?" Max inquired as she dusted off the front of her seat, shooting Loki a fairly unimpressed look as he buckled himself in.

"No, just really, really hung-over," the man replied as the engine roared to life.

Moments later they had jerked their way through Max's front forest, Garret grumbling the entire time about winding roads and unnecessary trees. Loki grasped at a small handle above the window to keep from tumbling over when Garret made a rather sharp turn out onto the road.

From there, Loki tuned out the conversation between the pair in the front of the car, as he had no interest to listen about stories of their school glory days. He had no desire, in fact, to know anything about the people he would spend the next several hours with, as they were all inconsequential. Garret was a pleasant enough fellow, though he clearly lacked a sense of smell if he could function in this car any longer than ten minutes at a time, and Loki would tolerate him because they were already acquaintances. However, if Max was the key to showing he appreciated mortal Midgardians, then he wasn't about to waste his time on any of the other small people he would encounter.

Well, unless that involved knocking them to the ground. He was actually sort of excited to inflict pain and then feign innocence; with his strength renewed, he was sure to tap someone from behind and send them sprawling as though they had been hit by a beam. Naturally, he would be mindful around Max, and Garret if they happened to play for the same team, but everyone else was fair game.

"Loki?"

"What?" he said quickly, snapping out of his daze as they came to a rather jerky halt at a stop light. He hadn't even noticed Max swiveled around in her chair, eyebrows up as she studied him. "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"I said that he's going to give you a really quick run-down on how you play football, because _apparently_ everything I've told you is wrong," she informed him, rolling her eyes a little when he grinned.

"Yeah, man, don't listen to Max," Garret insisted. "She just runs and catches the ball when we need her to. Do you play any sports?"

"Not recently."

"Are you a fast runner?"

"Immeasurably so."

"Good," Garret said, drumming his hands noisily on the front steering wheel, and then flooring it when the light changed, "well, we'll see who has actually come out, and then we'll find a spot for you. So, the basics of the game consist of a strange mix of awesomeness and danger…"

Loki sighed noisily as the man launched into a rather breathy speech about the tactics and rules involved in a game of football, but he lost Loki somewhere around the time when he was explaining about all the downs.

"Isn't that what I said?" Max asked, exasperation quite plain in her voice, and Loki reached forward to give her shoulder a squeeze.

"No, that's not what you said at all," Garret told her as they made another hard bank right into a fairly empty parking lot. Loki quickly spotted a group of men and women roughly Max's age milling about on a nearby field, and he assumed this was the party they were off to meet.

They exited the car slowly when they arrived, and Loki watched Garret retrieve a case of ale from the trunk. He muttered something along the lines of not telling Tiffany how drunk he had been all weekend, and Loki nodded, as though swearing a promise, but the information quickly filtered in one ear and out the other. Instead, he quickly fell in step with Max, forcing himself to take shorter strides to keep pace with her.

"So, are these all… old school companions?" Loki asked, rolling his eyes a little at his wording. "Friends."

"Some of them," she commented, eyes scanning the crowd as they approached the field. "Some are people that I kind of knew but didn't really talk to… It's all friendly here though."

"Until the game begins, I'm sure."

Max shot him a smirk, and then chuckled at Garret when he tripped over his own feet somewhere nearby. Loki then braced himself for the onslaught of introductions that followed; he was polite enough, but Max took the painstaking time to show him around to everyone, and by the end of it he wouldn't be able to produce one name. If he really made the effort, he would be able to identify any and all of the men and women standing about on the cool day, chatting under a glaring sun, and yet Loki simply didn't have to care anymore. He had the strength of a God again… What were these people to him?

Thankfully enough, Garret seemed only mildly more interested in socializing than Loki did, which seemed fairly odd. From what he had seen of the man in Masonville, he was actually fairly chatty. However, perhaps his woman brought out a different side of him, and without her around to prop him up, Loki could actually see his true nature. The pair sat next to one another on a wooden bench, the case of ale between them, and Loki accepted a bottle when it was handed to him. As he sipped the drink, which had a slight pumpkin aftertaste to it, he continued to watch Max as she flitted about from one cluster of people to the next.

"She hasn't hooked up with anyone here."

"Excuse me?" Loki remarked, shooting Garret a quick frown.

"Just in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't, but thank you," he said stiffly.

"No problem, man."

When were they going to start hitting one another? Loki sighed and took another sip of his drink, and then watched Garret force his way through some small talk with a trio of women who appeared almost out of nowhere. They tried to engage with Loki, but he kept his sentences short and to the point, which seemed to make them quickly lose interest. Eventually, Max wormed her way through the group, and at her arrival the other women dispersed. He sensed some sort of underlying dynamic at play, and perhaps it wasn't as friendly as she had initially led him to believe. Whatever the case may be, Loki didn't care – all he wanted to do was throw a few humans into the ground and then go back and eat turkey.

Delicious, delicious turkey.

"Come on, drunkards," Max chuckled, grabbing both Loki and Garret by their wrists and tugging. "We're on the same team."

Loki took a moment to finish his drink, her grasp barely affecting him, and then rose to his feet in a way that looked as though she had dragged him up successfully. In a spur of the moment, he leaned forward to place a kiss on her cheek, nothing too scandalous, but stopped when she inched back and glanced at Garret. He frowned; did she not want other people to know they were… well, beyond friendship?

"So what did the team hotshot put you on, Max?" Garret asked as he quickly downed the rest of his ale.

"Wide receiver."

"Shocking."

"I'm not complaining," she said as they strolled toward the field. "I usually don't have to do much then."

Loki noticed that there were only three other women out on the green, hard grass, while the rest of them had taken a seat on the bench. He smirked when he saw them dive into Garret's ale, but kept the observation to himself – it would be more entertaining to let the man realize scheming harlots had stolen all of his alcohol _after_ he played.

At this point, unfortunately, Loki wasn't really all that sure what he was supposed to do, even if Garret had gone to great lengths to explain the game to him. So, after Max gave him a quiet reintroduction to all the members of his team, he simply stood there, arms crossed, and watched the people around him fan out. He noticed that the other team had rolled up their pants to their knees, which was only attractive on the far less hairy women, but Loki assumed it was so that people could tell who was fighting for what side.

This whole ordeal seemed ridiculous. Max didn't even seem happy to be here – not really, anyway – and therefore it made little sense for Loki to even participate.

"Okay," Max whispered as she practically dragged him across the field, "stand here. See that guy over there? With the brown socks?"

"And the ridiculous facial hair?" he muttered, shaking his head at the atrocity.

"Yeah, him," she laughed. "When the ball gets going, they are going to try to score on us… Block him from getting the ball."

"That's all?"

"From what I understand, yes."

"I can do that."

"We can do this," she insisted, clapping him on the arm before backing away. "Just ask someone if it's confusing… or run around and look busy. That's what I do."

"I'm not taking advice from you on this," Loki told her, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from quirking up when she knocked into one of their teammates as she walked backwards. Her face was a nice shade of pink when she looked back at him, and she waved awkwardly before darting across the field to her position. Shaking his head, he turned to face the line of people forming in the centre of the patch of grass, and then tried to look remotely interested when a few nodded at him.

A whistle suddenly sounded, and Loki watched the two opposing lines in the centre of the field launch themselves at each other, an oddly shaped ball tossed between members of the opposing team. Loki frowned, and then jogged across the field to the man Max had pointed out earlier. There was a lot of shouting and grunting around him, and several pairs of people were already on the ground. When the fellow with the sad facial hair spotted him approaching, he took off in the opposite direction, toward Loki's end of the field, and the god kept easy pace with him.

When the man held his arms up, presumably to catch the ridiculous ball hurling across the field, Loki used one hand to drag him down into the mud. He held in his smirk when the fellow crunched into the grass, the ball landing several feet away and bouncing at odd angles.

"Fuck!"

"Hey man, are you okay?"

"Grow a pair, Prewett," Garret laughed, appearing out of nowhere at Loki's side and extending a hand to him. For the sake of a show, Loki had gone down to his knees for credibility, but he could have easily stayed up. "The guy barely touched you."

"It feels like I got hit with a train…" the man wheezed as Loki rose. "Just give me a second…"

"Dramatic lot, aren't they?" Loki mused, dusting his knees off as he surveyed the field. He spotted Max being helped to her feet by a lanky man across the greenery, and she retracted her hand quickly to wipe her legs off. He crossed the field with a frown on his lips, shooting the man a bit of a look when they passed one another. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, yeah, fine," Max muttered, waving off his concern as she readjusted her hair. "Good save!"

"Why were you on the ground?"

"Oh, I was trying to block Kevin and we tripped over each other," she told him. Loki glanced back at this 'Kevin' fellow, who was laughing with another man across the way, and then shot Max a skeptical look. However, the woman remained oblivious to his suspicions, and instead pointed to another spot on the field, "Now, we're the offense now, and we want to get the ball across the field into the end zone. So, your job now is to protect everyone who is in charge of catching the ball."

"Like you?"

"Well, no, I'm not that important," she insisted. "Watch out for guys looking to tackle anyone running with a purpose and block them."

"Is this an actual position?"

"I don't know," Max laughed. "I mean, we're drinking beer and playing this on a soccer field… I don't really know how professional this is supposed to be."

"Point taken."

She shot him a smile before darting off across the field again, pausing briefly to say something to Garret along the way. Loki sighed, and then watched the proceedings happen all over again. This time, he ran quickly and blocked a woman from trying to get at another one from his team who had caught the ball. With his defensive tactics in play, she actually managed to cross some sort of line that signalled a point had been scored, and he managed to do it without crunching anyone into the ground. Small mercies.

Loki watched the teams set up again, and he felt very large indeed amongst the humans. Many were panting, sweating, some even limping, and yet he remained in peak condition. Pathetic. With his strength returned, he truly appreciated the gifts _he_ had, not those of mortal men. Why should he appreciate a form that weakened so easily?

This game seemed a little pointless to Loki, and the only thing he could enjoy about it was the fact that he could knock people over. After a few rounds, he gained a reputation for being a good defensive player, and was moved to a more central position for the team. However, every single time they paused to reset after the ball changed hands between teams, he noticed that Max was on the ground, and that Kevin fellow was in the process of helping her up. Loki approached her several times over the issue, but she insisted it was all a part of the game – Kevin's position was to block her, and that was what he was doing.

Although he did get a little caught up in the competition, Loki continually found himself distracted by the display happening between Max and Kevin the longer they played. They had been at the game for the better part of an hour and a half, and at this point he was ready to do something. Their team was up by a considerable amount, but it seemed like there would be no mercy from the men who considered themselves captain. Loki, on the other hand, hardly cared about winning a silly little game.

"He's kind of a dick."

"Sorry?" Loki snapped, shooting a sidelong glance at Garret as they stood next to each other. He was finally starting to feel winded, his breathing heavy, and he glared down at the joints in his knees; they were starting to ache.

"Kevin," Garret remarked, nodding toward the lanky fellow. "I mean, he really doesn't need to tackle Max with every down, you know?"

"That's what I was thinking."

"He's doing it so he can get a good feel," Garret told him. "Or he's trying to… dunno how much you can actually feel through the sweater and track pants."

"Regardless," Loki ground out when he saw the man looking his roommate over. "It seems suspicious."

"You know, he tried to hook up with Tiffany once when I brought her home for New Years," the man started, hands on his hips, chest heaving. "He's actually kind of a huge dick."

"I think I'm finished playing defense for other people," Loki decided.

"Yeah, I'm ready to call it quits."

"No, I'm going to play defense for _Max_ instead."

"Oh, right," the man said quickly, tearing his eyes away from his empty case of beer at the sidelines. "Well, how about I block her, and you can handle Kevin."

"I…" Loki trailed off when he spotted the man in question, and suddenly realized he wanted to do nothing more than slam his head into the ground. He would show some restraint, naturally, otherwise he would kill the fellow, and that might look bad. Possibly. "Fine."

"Just don't go for the junk," Garret commented as they parted. "Looks like a cheap shot."

Loki quirked an eyebrow at him, and then resumed his new normal position somewhere in the middle of the field. However, rather than darting right as he usually did, he took a hard left, nudging someone out of the way to go straight for Kevin. The tall, lean man saw him coming, but continued on, perhaps thinking that Loki was going for someone else on the team. A quick glance back saw that Garret stood in front of Max, hands up defensively, and Loki grinned. As Kevin raced toward him, Loki quickly stepped aside and stuck his foot out subtly, and when the man tripped over it, Loki shoved down on his back to ensure a fall. However, he made the motion fluid with his body turning, so that only someone who was paying a great deal of attention would have seen that he pushed the mortal.

Loki feigned a look of concern when the round was called, and many surmised that Kevin had fallen at an odd angle and inadvertently knocked himself out.

"It looked like he tripped over his own feet," Garret commented, and Loki offered a nod of agreement when a few eyes turned to him. "Can we just call it a game and drink the rest of the beer now?"

There was a small chorus of agreement, and _finally_ the game had come to an end. Loki watched as a few of the man's friends helped him off the field, and he crossed his arms over his chest when he felt his stomach rumble irritably. Hopefully they could leave soon, as he was more than ready to indulge himself on Nancy's turkey.

Sighing again, he turned toward the sideline and started to walk, only to feel as though he had the Mjolnir on his shoulders. He swallowed uneasily, his legs starting to tremble, and he was forced to sit down on the wet field before he made it to the bench. For a moment, his vision blurred, and he had to blink hard a few times to restore it. He also needed to shake the ringing from his head, and a foreboding feeling swept across him as he gazed up at the now grey sky.

"No," he whispered desperately, "it was only in fun, All-father, I promise-"

"You finally worn out, champ?" Max asked as she approached, placing a hand on his shoulder as she crouched down. "You okay?"

"I suddenly feel a little tired," Loki admitted coldly, his hands shaking as he tried to still his rage. How could that old fool be so sensitive? It wasn't as though he had seriously injured anyone… The dolt was talking and drinking already.

"You're probably just hungry."

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, you'd better get hungry," she chuckled, sliding an arm around him and attempting to slowly ease him to his feet. "Mom went and bought more food when she saw how much you liked her cooking."

"Oh."

"You do look a little pale though," she said suddenly, stepping in front of him to touch his cheeks with the cool tips of her fingers. "Maybe we should just get going… I think Garret's ready to go to sleep at this point anyway."

"Yes…"

Loki managed to get his legs moving again, but every limb felt heavy. How could he be given his strength, and then have it removed so shortly after? Everything he had done today was for Max's sake; perhaps he would need to make it more obvious in the future. He wrapped an arm firmly around her shoulder and kissed her temple in plain sight of everyone, and then leaned his weary body on her more than necessary until Garret agreed to take them home.

* * *

Dinner had been excellent, as usual, and Max decided that the day overall had been a smashing success. Loki made a splash with the guys for his football tactics, even if he did go a little rogue at the end to have a go at Kevin. Max hadn't commented on it, mostly because she assumed it was done for her sake, and therefore let that idea stew happily in her mind rather than call him out on it. They returned home an hour before dinner had been ready, and while Max helped out in the kitchen, as much as her mom would let her do, anyway, Loki and her dad sat upstairs watching the remainder of some football game until everything was ready.

As predicted, Loki went through almost four plates of food, but there was still a sizeable amount for them to take home. Max loved having Thanksgiving leftovers, and was pretty excited to be eating turkey sandwiches for the rest of the week. After she and Loki loaded the majority of the dishes into the dishwasher, it was time for dessert. Her parents took it in front of the TV upstairs, while she and Loki drifted toward the living room. Before they commenced with the eating of delicious custard and pie, her dad and Loki got a fire going in the mantel, and after her dad disappeared back upstairs, they settled down on the couch, Loki's bed folded away for now, to enjoy their treats.

Max sat cross-legged in the middle of the couch, her bowl of deliciousness seated in her lap, while Loki leaned against the armrest. They seemed comfortable in the silence, but as Max scooped a forkful of pie into her mouth, she knew she would have to break it soon. With the actual dinner over with, it would be time to head back to Masonville, and in essence get back to their regular lives. That left the question of what was going to happen with them and their relationship, and the fact that they were roommates.

After swallowing her mouthful, she cleared her throat, eyes focused on the flames. She didn't want to be _that_ girl who made too big a deal out of things, but she wasn't sure she would be able to go home without some sort of decision made between them.

"So, I was thinking," she started, tapping her fork against the side of her blue bowl, eyes narrowing in on a spark that flew out from the hearth. "I was just wondering what… we're going to do when we get home. I mean, we haven't really known each other than long, and we're living together, and now we're… well, we're doing something. I don't want to label it, or rush it, or make a big deal out of it, but I don't think we can actually say we're just friends anymore."

She took a breath, and then ate another forkful of pie. Loki remained silent at her side, but she felt a little too awkward to actually meet his gaze. Instead, she carried on; it would be easier to have a word vomit and get everything out of the way than to hash out everything slowly.

"I mean, people who suddenly aren't friends don't just… start living together," she continued. "They take their time, go on dates, get to know each other better, and I feel like we're bypassing a lot of steps all of a sudden, and I don't… I don't want it to ruin anything, you know? I like living with you. I like being around you. I just… I feel like we should talk about it before we get home and it gets awkward," she paused for a moment, "or not awkward. It could be awesome, and everything could be really great, but… I don't know. I feel stupid bringing it up now, but we may not get a chance to talk about it properly tomorrow."

Still, he said nothing, and Max immediately regretted saying anything at all. They weren't anything yet… Just because they had kissed a few times in front of a fire didn't make them a couple, and she had now become _that_ girl. She sighed and ate another piece of her pie in silence, waiting tensely for him to respond. However, when the quiet dragged on for an uncomfortably long time, Max finally looked at him, and then groaned.

"Loki."

His head was tilted over the back of the couch, eyes closed and mouth gaped, and his bowl of dessert lay forgotten between his limp fingers. Max watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest for a moment, and then poked him sharply in the ribs, "_Loki_."

"What?" he snapped sharply as he bolted up, eyes shooting open and blinking rapidly, "What? What's wrong?"

"Were you sleeping?"

"No."

She quirked an eyebrow, "You were."

"I was merely resting with my eyes closed," he argued defensively, and then scooped some pie into his mouth. "This is delicious."

"All right, what did I say then?"

"I'm not playing this game with you-"

"What did I say?"

He stared at the fire for a moment, and then looked back at her, "We were… discussing… dinner-"

"Oh my god, you totally fell asleep," Max laughed, the nervous energy tumbling out when she realized he genuinely hadn't heard a word she said. Good. They could revisit the discussion later when something actually genuinely happened between them. "Come here. Turkey gets the best of everyone sometimes."

She set her empty bowl on the floor, and then beckoned for him to come closer. She resettled herself at the other end of the couch, and held her arms out for Loki to crawl between them. Moments later, he had settled on her, pressing only slightly on her full stomach. With his head on her chest, she heard him sigh, arms fidgeting until they found a comfortable position. She ran a hand through his short hair, and continued to do so until he fell asleep once more.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**I'm not sure what took me so long with this chapter… I just didn't want to get into it. I did, but I didn't, and meehhhhh. But I'm happy with the final result. I also had a midterm and a huge paper due this past week, and I updated twice for my Loki/Sigyn story, so it's not like I've just been sitting around doing nothing. **

**I know everyone was happy that Loki got his strength back, but in my mind he's got a long way to go… He's a huge derp, and you give him an inch, and he runs a mile unnecessarily. He's eager to get back to Asgard, and I think he jumped the gun there with all his thoughts about puny weak mortals, and then throwing his weight around on the pitch didn't help him either. **

**Whatever, Max still has feels for him. And who knows if Loki was actually asleep or not... but he did seem pretty wrecked to me. So. We'll see. FEELS. **

**I don't ever really have a favourite line in chapters. There are some that I like, and some that I thought were witty… But Loki saying Garret's car smells like cheese gets me every time. Also, in my head, Garret looks like Nick Miller from _New Girl_, and it makes me happy.  
**

**So I've planned out, in detail, this story up until New Years. Like I said, I plan around holidays. From there, it's a vague idea with a few chapters planned, but I keep working on this – and the sequel – fairly often, so you can expect continuous updates. **

**LOVE YOU ALL!**


	26. I can haz cheeseburger?

Max glanced at the small clock at the corner of her computer screen, and decided that if she didn't want to be late meeting Tiff for lunch, it was time to drag her body into the shower. Despite the fact she had just gotten back from a long weekend a couple of days ago, she was already prepared to have a lazy day. So, she had slept through her alarm that morning at nine, opting to get out of bed a whole half hour later than normal, and lollygagged on the computer until half passed ten messing around on the internet. Tiffany had a fairly lengthy lunch break between her classes, and a few quick text messages later they had arranged to meet at a café downtown to grab a bite to eat. Thus far, her day had consisted of nothing other than pictures of internet cats and Facebook creeping, along with a fairly giant mug of tea, and that was how she liked it.

It was actually pretty nice to be back into the familiar rhythm that Masonville provided. Yes, it was wonderful seeing her family, and she was fairly sure she and Loki wouldn't have hooked up if they stayed in Masonville for the weekend. However, by the time Monday came around, she was itching to get back to her regular life, even if that did involve marking first year assignments and trudging her way through some of her own in front of terrible reality TV. Besides, she already had plans to be home for Christmas, so it wasn't as though her parents were losing their daughter for months at a time; they were actually probably pretty enthused themselves to be getting their house back to some state of normalcy with Loki out of the living room.

So, with a car stocked full of leftover Thanksgiving foods, she and Loki ventured back to Masonville in the midst of a hail storm on the holiday Monday, and were back to work shortly after. Unfortunately, it seemed as though once they crossed the boundary lines between towns, Max felt thrown for a loop when it came to her relationship with her roommate. It wasn't as though he started acting differently around her, but now everything he did fell under heavy scrutiny. Max noticed that after a few days, she was overthinking just about every little thing he did, right down to whether or not he gave her a kiss before he went to bed – and at this point, she wasn't sure which one of those situations she preferred.

Max had never been one to move all that fast in relationships. She was a flirt when she wanted to be, but when it came to the physical aspects of it, it took her years in high school before she actually slept with one of her boyfriends. She was never sure when it was right to make a movie, and if she ought to be the one to do it, and usually waited for a guy to decide that for her. Naturally, as she grew into a more confident woman in other areas of her life, her relationship abilities seemed to even out a little, but Loki managed to make her feel like a teenager all over again. They may have been the same age, but it felt like he was years ahead of her with a number of things, even when he was his usual pop-culture-stunted self. So, while Max may have been the one to initiate a little cuddling here and there, Loki seemed more willing to do anything else.

However, Max wasn't exactly sure _what_ to do. Technically, they had known each other since August, but it still felt too soon to do anything below the belt if they were actually going to make a go of some kind of relationship. She was also aware, unfortunately, that guys had a tendency to lose interest if a woman held off for too long, which made her stress inwardly; should they be sleeping in the same bed? Was it weird that they would sit on top of each other while watching the news at eleven, and then go to separate rooms when it was finished? Should they bother to go on dates if they saw each other all the time anyway?

This was probably one of the more confusing relationships she had ever been in, and she was pretty sure Loki hadn't given it much more thought now than he had on the weekend. Sometimes he seemed distant, off in thought, but she had chalked that up to his personality at this point; he was a thinker. He analyzed situations before he spoke, which was an admirable trait, but that also meant he wasn't going to say anything to her until he was absolutely certain that he had the right wording. Now, the right wording to him may not have been the right wording to her, but they could deal with those sorts of issues when they came up. As for right now, Max was working hard on keeping all the crazy thoughts in her head so that they actually had the chance to start something without teenage drama floating around between them.

Max sighed softly, and then closed her laptop before pushing away from her desk. She then grabbed her freshly washed towel and a change of clothes for the day, and drifted toward the bathroom. Loki's door was slightly open, and she could hear him moving around inside his bedroom; she wasn't sure what he actually did in there without a single piece of technology to keep him company, but somehow he managed. She flicked on the light and squinted under the brightness of the new white bulb, and then set her clothes down on the sink – at least they would stay dry from the shower's spray. When she turned back, she saw Loki stumble into the bathroom, towel also in hand.

"Morning."

"Don't you have class?" he asked, genuinely surprised to see her standing on the other side of the door. "It's Thursday, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I felt like slacking off today," she told him with a shrug. Max then nodded down pointedly at his towel, "So, what are you doing?"

"I had planned to shower, actually."

"Coincidence… so did I," she laughed, holding up her bright green towel as evidence. Her cheeks then coloured when he smirked at her suggestively, and she shook her head, "I beat you in here, so I get to go first."

"We could always preserve the planet's water supply," he purred, inching forward and tugging at the bottom of her rather unflattering t-shirt. "Shower together?"

"Get out," Max ordered playfully, but not before leaning up to accept his quick peck. "I'll be really quick."

"You'd better be," Loki muttered, shooting her a bit of a look. "I'd hate to be late to my media and technology lecture… the ground-breaking information I would miss weighs heavy on my heart-"

"Get out!" she chuckled as she shoved him out, "Stop stalling me."

"Are you sure I can't sit in and watch?" Loki asked as she started to shut the door. "I promise I'll be extra quiet-"

"Out," she said one last time, shaking her head at him and grinning like an idiot when he smiled.

With the door shut, she leaned back against it and ran a hand through her messy hair; what was she supposed to do in those situations? Roommates could laugh off awkward shower encounters, whereas significant others (or potential ones, anyway) might take the sexual route – where were she and Loki on that continuum?

She flicked on the fan and then peeled off her outer layer of clothing, tossing the pieces on the ground before hopping in the shower. True to her word, Max kept it under seven minutes for the sake of Loki's hot water supply. Once she was out, she dressed quickly, added on a light layer of make-up, and then opted to blow-dry her hair in her bedroom.

"Shower's free," Max called absently as she gathered up her things, and then grinned again when she spotted Loki hurrying down the hallway. "All yours."

"Excellent," he remarked, catching her in one arm as they passed one another and dragging her up against his frame. She squealed quietly in surprise, but dropped her things in order to cup his face all the same when he pulled her up for another kiss. He tasted like coffee, and she no doubt countered it with her tea taste; morning kissing could be really hit or miss as far as breath went. When she settled back down off her the tips of her toes, he swooped in for one last final peck, and then studied her for a moment. "Where are you off to?"

"What makes you think I'm going anywhere?" she inquired, quirking an eyebrow at him as she bent down to pick up her discarded clothing.

"Well, your eyelashes have colour," he noted. "That means you're leaving the house."

"Mascara," Max commented, planting a hand on her hip. "How have you lived with me for this long and not know the make-up lingo?"

"Can't say it's something I actually care about," Loki told her.

"Touché," she chuckled. "I'm meeting Tiffany for lunch… I'm going soonish, so I'll see you after class."

"Give her my best," he said as he turned back toward the bathroom.

"Yup, see you after."

She lingered in the hall for a moment, pretending to fuss over her towel until he shut the door behind him. Were they supposed to kiss goodbye? Should she not care? Should she? Max groaned under her breath, and then disappeared into her room to finish up the final preparations for departure, all the while her mind aflutter with ridiculous thoughts about how she ought to handle Loki now that they had taken their relationship to a new level.

He was back in his room with the door shut by the time Max was ready to go, and she opted to just leave without saying anything more. After all, that's what she would have done if they hadn't been making out with each other, so whatever. She slipped her feet into her winter boots by the front door, followed quickly by her heavy jacket and hat, and then hurried out to her car. The café was within a twenty minute walk, but with the snow piled up to her knees after the stormy week they had had, she wasn't about to force herself to walk when she could drive.

Parking, however, was a bit of a problem, and she was forced to do a stupidly difficult parallel park in front of the café with a line of irritated drivers waiting behind her. Once she was in and sorted, she paid for two hours on the nearby parking meter, and then hurried inside and out of the frigid weather. Punctual as always, Tiffany was waiting for her at their usual table near the front window, and they smiled when their eyes met.

"How was the homestead?" Max asked as they went in for a quick hug. She then shrugged off her coat and hung it on the back of her chair, ruffling her hair from its stint in her hat. A waiter dropped off a laminated menu for her, and she nodded as she took a seat.

"Oh, you know," Tiffany sighed. "Turkey, lots of food, dessert, football, beer… It was good to see some of my old friends though."

"Yeah, that sounds like my weekend too," she chuckled as she scanned the menu, "minus Loki."

"About that," her friend chuckled, leaning back in her chair and surveying her as Max feigned an interest in the sandwich options. "What was he doing there? Garret said you guys played football together."

"My mom invited him," Max explained, pushing the plastic sheet of paper away and then fiddling with the fork and knife at the side of the circular table. "Was that all Garret said?"

"He said you got a kiss on the field."

Tiffany's eyes widened when Max's cheeks coloured, and she opened her mouth to pry further. However, their waiter resurfaced at that exact same moment, and he had his pen and pad ready to go.

"What can I get for you ladies today?" he inquired, clearly setting on his smile to impress in an effort to get more tips. Ha. Little did he know he was dealing with students who had almost no money at any given time. "We have a tomato soup special-"

"Caesar salad with a Diet Coke," Tiffany said quickly as she collected both menus, eager to get rid of him.

"Okay, and for you?"

"Club sandwich with a water," Max replied, her stomach gurgling happily at the prospect of finally getting something other than tea in it that morning.

"Fries or salad with that?"

"Fries, please."

"And did you want gravy on your fries?"

"Uh…" Max grinned when she heard Tiffany sigh dramatically, and then shook her head, "No, that's fine."

"Awesome," the waiter remarked as he accepted the menus from Tiff. "I'll have your drinks soon-"

"Thanks," Tiffany said, smiling brightly up at him despite her impatience. The man disappeared shortly after, and Max felt the full blast of her friend's eager eyes land on her. However, rather than launching right into the story, she took a deep breath and studied her car through the window beside her, wondering if she ought to bother washing it before winter actually hit. "_Max_."

"Okay, so, it's not a big deal," she babbled, fidgeting with the sleeve of her purple sweater as she looked anywhere _but_ at Tiffany, as her friend's excitement made her blush an embarrassing shade of pink. "We sort of… hooked up… a few times."

"Oh my _God_-"

"You can't say anything to anyone!" Max hissed, biting her lower lip for a pause as their waiter delivered their drinks. Once he was gone again, she lowered her voice a little, "I just… I don't want Ben to hear anything, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess-"

"And we don't even really know what we are yet," she continued as she prodded her lemon slice into her drink. "I mean, I'm not sure if we're just hooking up, or we're seeing each other, or… fuck, I don't know, dating?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, "Haven't you guys talked about it?"

"Well, I did this really awkward speech Sunday night after dinner about how I was feeling," she told Tiff, tapping a nail against her cold glass, "and he fell asleep. Like… just conked right out."

Her friend snorted into her drink, and then smirked, "Well, he is a classy fellow."

"He is," Max told her, ignoring the sarcasm. "I mean, he hasn't pushed for anything or been stupid, and he didn't start distancing himself once we got home… He's been… great."

"But?"

"But I have zero clue about what we're doing, and that just makes me uneasy, you know?"

"Maybe you guys need to have a talk about it?" Tiffany suggested, "Just for the sake of clarity?"

"I know, but I don't want to be that girl who overthinks everything-"

"We're _all_ that girl," her friend argued lightly. "Any girl who says she doesn't think about the guy she's sleeping with is lying-"

"We didn't have sex," Max interjected quickly, quieting herself once again when Tiffany's salad arrived. "I'm not the type of person to move quickly with that stuff. I'm fine where we are now with what we're doing, I just don't like not knowing."

"Well, the way I see it, you have two options," Tiffany remarked as she stabbed a cluster of lettuce. "Option one involves directly asking him what he's thinking… It seems the most logical."

"And option two?"

"Waiting it out," she continued. "If you can keep it together and not freak out about it, you guys could just wait and see what happens… Who knows, next week it could be official without you guys needing to talk about it."

"I could do that," Max muttered after a moment or so of thought. "Maybe… It's not hard to get along with him when we're together."

"Good kisser?"

Max pursed her lips together and said nothing, mostly for the fact that the waiter had finally shown up with her sandwich. Tiffany giggled at her expression and shook her head a little, and Max shoved a few fries into her mouth.

"Really good."

"I had a suspicion he might be."

She stared down at her sandwich, and as good as it looked, she almost wished she had asked for the lunch burger instead. Oh well. It still tasted delicious, even with her reservations, and she wiped a bit of mayo from her lip before she spoke again.

"But seriously, you can't tell anyone," she warned, "and make sure Garret isn't running his mouth either. I just… I don't want outside pressure to ruin stuff."

"Girl scout's honor of silence," Tiffany said gravely, and Max rolled her eyes. "How's the sandwich?"

She shrugged, "Good… but I wish I had gotten the burger instead."

* * *

There were a number of places around campus that Loki preferred to sit in while he waited for time to tick by between his lessons, and the main dining hall certainly was _not_ one of them. However, almost every inch of the usual library seating was covered when he strolled through, and was therefore forced to dine with the rest of the student body elsewhere. Surrounded by noise and painfully bright light, Loki stared down at the lunch tray in front of them, and then ground his teeth together when someone knocked against his back as they tried to weave their way through the tightly packed tables. He was lucky to have found one to himself, but it was in the centre of all the chaos the dining hall usually produced around the midday feeding time, and his patience with it all was thinner than the slice of meat in his hamburger.

Shockingly, Loki was actually fine with being back in classes. They may not have been _the_ most intellectually stimulating thing out there, but at least he had a chance to exercise his thinking muscles to some degree. It was far better to struggle through assignments than to sit around at the Wright household with nothing to do but eat; how strange that he had wanted to do nothing more before the weekend, and now he wanted to get away from it. Even Max seemed to be pleased to leave the home of her parents when Monday reared its ugly head, and Loki had been keen to get on the road before midday.

The pair had only been home a few days at this point, but already Loki sensed a hint of distance from his roommate. It wasn't the same sort of distance as before, but she seemed incredibly unsure of herself, which was frustrating. He had done nothing to change the way he interacted with her, despite the fact he liked to think he could kiss her whenever he wanted now, and yet something about Max seemed off. For now, his plan was to ignore it until it directly affected him; women thought of so many ridiculous notions, and although Max was not the worst of them, it would still take her time to sort everything out in her head. Until then, Loki played his affections with her down only slightly, especially when he noticed an uncomfortable expression cross her face. He wasn't particularly sure what the woman was like in a romantic setting, but she certainly was not as forward about it as she could have been.

In actuality, that suited Loki fine; he wasn't especially forward when it came to romance either, as it had always been one of the last things on his mind. He could flirt, yes, and turn on the charm when it suited him, but now that he had found someone who was capable and willing to reciprocate in kind, he actually wasn't all that sure what to do with himself. He hadn't ever actively participated in a courtship, so he wasn't particularly sure what the customs were. How often was he supposed to kiss her? Were they supposed to be intimate with one another? Should he buy her things? All of his rather vague experience with women in the past seemed somewhat arbitrary and useless at this point, which left him in a bit of a situation.

If Max had little desire to be too outwardly expressive of their new status now that they had returned to the real world, he was perfectly willing to go along with her until she decided to make a change. After all, it wasn't as though he liked her any less at this point, and his feelings for her were the only things keeping him on the path back to godhood.

Now, if only the rest of the human race didn't make it so damn difficult… He almost broke his plastic fork when someone nudged into him for the umpteenth time in that hour, and when he looked back pointedly over his shoulder, there was no one there. Well, no one there who had clearly walked into him; he was certainly not alone surrounded by at least a hundred other young college students. He sighed noisily, and then stabbed the pliable fork into his bowl of chili fries, scooping the mess into his mouth and glaring when half of it fell down his chin. One could never eat elegantly when one's food is covered in meat slop.

A quick glance at the obnoxiously large clock that hung over the make-shift McDonald's counter indicated that Loki had another forty minutes before his next class started, and he figured he might as well find something to distract him while he waited. He didn't have the laptops that other students could pop up and play on whenever a second of boredom struck, but he did have his biology textbook in his backpack, and that always made for good reading in a pinch. He was halfway through the chapter on vertebrate evolution – two weeks ahead of schedule, naturally – and he could probably chew through the rest before he was required in his next class.

So, he reached down and unzipped his bag, fishing around in it awkwardly until he had a good grip on the large text. He then hauled it out and set it on his lap, and then quickly straightened out. However, when he was upright again, he saw that someone had squished a ball of brown napkins into his chili fries; his jaw clenched as he stared at it for a moment. His eyes traveled upward slowly, and he saw a familiar face glowering at him from across the circular table.

"Erica," he said sharply, only _just_ recalling the tart's name as he set his biology book on the other side of his dining tray between them, his eyes narrowing. "Always a delight."

"You didn't call."

"_What_?"

He had to focus very hard on her face, because as she leaned over the table, hands planted firmly on either side of his biology textbook, he had the opportunity to stare right down her shirt. Naturally, in doing so he would lose all the power in the conversation; as much as he would have preferred the view down her shirt to the one on her face, Loki managed to maintain eye contact.

"After we hooked up, you said you would call," she snapped with a huff. "It's been almost a month, and I get nothing?"

"I don't have a phone," Loki argued, his tone bored. He couldn't even recall if he had made her such a promise, and if he did, it would have only been given as a means to quiet her.

"Why did you say it then?"

"Haven't a clue," he offered with a shrug. "I assumed you knew what you were to me for the one night."

"You're a pig," the woman spat, earning her a few looks from a group of men seated at the next table over. "I'm not just someone you can use for my body-"

"Mouth," Loki corrected cheekily, holding up one finger to stop her. "Just the mouth."

Her jaw dropped a little at the comment, and he heard the men nearby snigger. Loki's eyebrows shot up, and he waited for some further banter to spur on the game. However, she sought to end it faster than it had begun. Before he realized what she was doing, she had flipped open his textbook to some arbitrary section, grabbed his hamburger and squished the innards down on the page. She slammed the book closed dramatically when his eye twitched, and then flounced off through the hall without any parting words.

His lip curled up as he stared at the condiments oozing out of the side of his textbook, and when he hesitantly opened it again, he saw that the pathetic meat had smeared across the page and its juices had leaked right through. Ruined – absolutely ruined. He spared a glance at his chili fries, which were also completely soiled, and then shut his eyes tightly, repeating a mantra over and over again in his head about _not_ annihilating an entire room of mortals.

Not that he could even if he tried, mind you. Loki had been fairly accepting of the fact that he lost his strength after his football folly, but right now it certainly would have come in handy. Think of all the tables he could flip, the skulls he could crush if he had but an ounce of his former strength.

"Dude, that's rough."

An unwelcome voice intruded deep into his thoughts, and he saw that the audience from the next table continued to watch him, enraptured. Loki didn't bother to force a smile or give some sort of acknowledgement at the attempt for camaraderie. However, that seemed lost to the boys next to him, as when they rose and walked by, one dropped an untouched hamburger on his tray.

"You deserve it," the giver chuckled, nudging Loki's shoulder as he passed. "Women are batshit crazy."

He sat there, completely still, and glared down at the new food. He had won it, apparently, and yet he had no desire to even touch it. Instead, Loki simply rose from the table, slung his bag over his arm, and stormed out of the dining hall. His things were left where they were: the soiled textbook, the crushed napkin-encrusted chili fries, and the trophy burger – all forgotten on the table for someone who made less than he did at his place of employment to clean when the hall cleared.

A frown permanently fixed to his face, he stormed off in the direction of the bookstore, hoping that his relationship to his manager may earn him a free replacement for the only textbook he actually cared about.

* * *

Natasha's eyes flew open the moment she heard someone place their foot on the fire escape outside her bedroom window. She hadn't really been sleeping much anyway, as the air conditioner was broken and the room grew stuffy over the course of the day. At least Bangkok's night air offered a slight reprieve from the heat, but even in November everything stayed warm, and the smell was enough to force her to keep her window open just a crack. However, if she hadn't, she wouldn't have heard her guest, and that could have been to her detriment.

She sat up quickly and retrieved the pistol from her side table, which sat in plain sight as she had no reason to hide it. The room was almost entirely bare aside from her bed, the little table to its left, and her bag of clothes in the corner. She preferred it like this; no chance to grow attached, no time to settle in. She had been in Bangkok for a little under three weeks now, and she had yet to accumulate anything more than a few boxes of take-out and some local clothing. Otherwise, everything belonged to her, including the deadbolt she attached to her door to keep the nosier of her fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agents out.

After flicking the gun off its safety setting, Natasha rolled out of bed and landed on the tile floor without making a sound. Her baggy t-shirt rode up slightly in the process, but she ignored it as she slid beneath the frame of the nearby window. When she paused, she could hear very faint steps along each rung of the ladder to the right of her window, and her breathing slowed in an effort to focus her concentration. There were no curtains to speak of, and Natasha sidled up along the side in which she knew she could remain invisible. Crouched, she brought her gun up and waited, ignoring the way her legs ached at the strain. Moments later, a gloved hand slipped through the crack of her window, and she watched it lift the pane up. Still, she waited, her breath catching in her throat when she saw a leg slip in, followed shortly by a body in a black uniform.

With his back to her, she couldn't be entirely sure who it was, but they were an idiot for crawling in facing _away_ from the bed. In a flash, Natasha was up and slamming the butt end of her gun in the intruder's skull. He cried out in surprise and fell obediently to his knees when she pressed the nozzle into his neck.

"Tasha," he croaked, "I wasn't expecting a warm welcome, but come on…"

The agent remained tense despite the familiar voice, and she didn't lower her weapon until she had walked completely around him. Barton had been compromised before, and with bodies being snatched up and used around Thailand, she needed to be completely sure it was him.

"Name our hotel in Budapest," she ordered sharply, cocking the weapon as it now hovered between his eyes. He smirked.

"Corinthia."

Her finger lingered on the trigger for a moment longer, until she finally let her arm fall to her side. The corners of her lips quirked upward when he grinned, and she stepped around him quickly to shut the window and lock it. After a quick glance into the brightly lit street below, she tossed her gun back on the side table and leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

"Hi."

"Hi yourself," he mused as he rubbed the back of his head. "Ow."

"You _were_ breaking into my room," she told him, eyebrows up as she gave him a once over. "Are you here on assignment?"

"No, I came looking for you," he told her. "Someone blew up my hotel in Barbados… and apparently guys tried to jump Steve somewhere in England… almost successfully, I might add."

"So you came here?"

"To see if you knew anything," he remarked, pushing himself to his feet. "I'll check in with Fury's guys in the morning… Whatever you're doing, I want in."

Natasha frowned, "What's happened to the Captain?"

"He's on his way to New York to meet up at the new headquarters," he explained. "So? Anything for me?"

She pursed her lips, and then shook her head. They may have been incredibly close, but she wasn't about to open up and spill every intimate detail of her assignment with him at some obscure hour in the morning. Besides, she had a sinking suspicion that Agent 22 had bugged her room somehow, and she wasn't about to give her own private insights into the investigation for him to review later. Although she knew Clint wouldn't press too much, he would ask questions that were bound to get her talking simply because of their history.

"Not tonight," Natasha sighed, running a hand through her shaggy hair and then nodding toward the bed. "Tired?"

"I was," Clint muttered, peeling off his outer vest and dumping it on the ground, along with a slew of concealed weapons. "I like this sleeping attire. Not going with the usual nothing these days?"

"I'm not a fan of my roommates," she droned, which made him chuckle.

"Well, _I'm_ not a roommate," he offered coyly, taking a step toward her. "You ready for a rematch?"

"And what? Win again?" she laughed, rolling her eyes as he dragged his black shirt off over his head. "Are you sure you want to go down that rabbit hole?"

"I like my odds."

She rolled her eyes, and then crossed her arms over her chest, "I think I'll sit this one out."

"Scared?"

"Not even in the slightest."

"Good," he mused. "It's been a while-"

Natasha cut him off by swinging a punch for his left cheek, which he only just managed to avoid. He responded quickly, latching onto her wrist and hauling her forward, which she countered quickly with a kick to the groin. He grunted, but managed to grasp her by the roots of her hair and drag her down with him, knocking the backs of her knees in the process. They ended up on the ground, Natasha holding Clint down by the throat, and Clint yanking Natasha's head back by her hair.

Before she could grunt out her threat, he slammed his palm into the stiff curve of her elbow, which loosened her grip on his throat. He shot up in her momentary weakness, lips to hers before she could protest.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**As much as I dislike Erica as a character, I felt genuinely sorry for her in the confrontation. Don't start something you can't finish and all that, but Loki was kind of a massive dick about it. But then again, I guess she did ruin his delicious chili fries first, so maybe she had it coming? I don't know… **

**I think what I wanted to get out of this chapter is that relationships of all kinds are extremely complicated. All of Max's thoughts are currently my thoughts on how I should shape a relationship as complex as her and Loki's right now. I have a pretty basic and complete idea in mind, but I'm always open to suggestions/thoughts/other perspectives!**

**People were really quick to ship Clint and Natasha after the movie, but I was a little hesitant. I liked that she wasn't sexualized (aside from the booty shots in that costume), so I didn't necessarily want to pair her up with anyone. However, I read an interview from Jeremy Renner that said he figured Clint and Natasha want to beat the shit out of each other as much as they want to screw each other, so I rolled with it. **

**So I've worked out where I am with the plot, and I'm about halfway through the story. I estimated somewhere between twenty and twenty-five chapters to go before we reach the end, but there may be more whenever I come up with a random idea to interject. **

**Much love for all the support! LOVE, LOVE, LOVE YOU GUYS!**


	27. Let's talk about sex, baby

"Okay, try this one over your shoulder?"

"Yeah, but I won't be able to see if you catch it," Max argued, giggling at Ben as they stopped their game momentarily. He paused, drumming his fingers against the light wood of the desk in front of him, and then shrugged.

"Turn around real fast?"

She shot him a look, and then hurled a pert, round grape at him with all the accuracy she could muster. It looked close, but he managed to snap it up in the nick of time, darting around the desk and chair and bending down in order to catch it in his mouth. He threw his arms up in the air victoriously as she cheered like an idiot in the empty classroom.

"Go again!"

Max grinned as she tugged another grape off its stem from the bag in her hand, and then tossed it across the room, cheering once more when Ben caught it in his mouth. He seemed to get a little bouncier with each throw, and his confidence soared whenever he managed to catch one while navigating through the rows of desks.

It was a glorious Tuesday afternoon, and the pair had been waiting for the professor they assisted to bring them the half-marked copies of the exam their class just sat through. Max and Ben had volunteered to grade the true/false and multiple choice sections for the large class after he went through the essay chunks, and the other teaching assistants would get the short answer questions after. She wasn't thrilled that they had been waiting in the empty classroom for almost forty minutes, and it would have been nice of their faculty supervisor to let them know he was running late, but there would have been more trouble for them if they left before getting their hands on the exams. Now, neither of them actually wanted to grade the tests, as Loki informed her that nearly every one of his peers thought the material covered was too difficult, which meant she could expect a lot of wrong answers, and none of the teaching assistants liked handing out bad grades.

So, in order to put a little cheer in the dismally cold afternoon, Max threw a grape at Ben when he told a really awful joke about something she could no longer remember at this point. The game started there when he actually caught it, and in an attempt to disprove her theory that it was sheer luck, he demanded she throw another one. They started initially by tossing the grapes from the desk she perched on to the one he was on, and now, almost forty minutes later, she was hurling them across the room. He missed a few, but Ben seemed to have developed an incredible amount of coordination over the Thanksgiving holiday, and she liked seeing him feel accomplished with each passing turn.

Max would have been more irritated to wait, as it was getting close to quarter after five and she was supposed to start a shift at the bookstore sometime around six. However, a text from Melissa vibrated on her phone twenty minutes earlier, and apparently the store wasn't set to be busy tonight – which Max could have deduced on her own – so her manager decided to give her the night off. Therefore, seeing as she had nowhere to be anymore, she felt much more relaxed to throw grapes at Ben and dance around when he caught them.

Although childish, the game was a welcome distraction from her incessant thoughts on her budding relationship with Loki. Almost a week had passed since she told Tiffany she could keep her mental shit together and wait for something meaningful to happen with Loki, and she quickly realized that was harder to do than she might have anticipated. She kept waiting for him to say something, or do something that might indicate they were something more than roommates who frequently kissed during the day, but she hadn't seen anything yet. They had worked two shifts together at the bookstore, and she spent the entire time distracted by him wandering around doing things, and Max felt absolutely ridiculous; she felt like some stupid high school girl in their first relationship, and it was maddening. Whenever she did build up the courage to say something, he distracted her with a different conversation, and when it was over, the moment had passed.

It was all pretty ridiculous, but when Max looked back over their relationship's entirety, she saw that they weren't exactly the best at acknowledging things between them. However, with the rate that their cuddles were growing at, she knew she couldn't sit around wondering forever. They were either something, or they needed to be friends again; her stupid emotions couldn't handle the awkward middle ground they had forced themselves into. One of the worst parts of the whole thing was that Loki hadn't changed one bit; yes, he was sometimes a little awkward when she pulled his hands away from their wanderings, and he was showing more and more disinterest in her stories that involved other men. Aside from the slight changes in behaviour, he was basically the same as he had always been, which made Max feel like an idiot. She didn't _want_ to spend her time worrying about what they were, and would have been happy to just _be_ with him, but her brain couldn't seem to handle that at the moment.

She needed answers, and perhaps Melissa cancelling her shift tonight was a sign that she ought to try to get them.

"Let me try an overhand shot," Max suggested, plucking a rather large grape from the bag. "Be the net to my grape basketball."

Ben nodded as his knees bent, arms out and ready should he need to bling himself in one direction or the other. He was rarely goofy with her, which made the game all the more fun. One eye squinted shut slightly as she prepared for the shot, and she then watched the grape fly across the room toward him. This one, unfortunately, bounced off his nose, her trajectory slightly off, and she sighed.

"Again," he ordered. "I need to shuffle a bit…"

"Okay, but we're almost out of grapes," she laughed, holding up the plastic bag as evidence. "So don't waste the last few."

"Well, don't overshoot them," Ben countered, which made her roll her eyes. "Okay, I'm ready."

This time, he actually managed to catch it, though he grimaced when he knocked his knee on a nearby chair. Max snorted when he staggered to the side, leaning back against the desk as he chewed the hard-earned grape and massaged his leg.

"Afternoon, graduate-level historians…"

Max shoved the plastic grape bag into her backpack and Ben straightened hastily when their supervisor strolled into the room, and she almost cringed as she wondered just how long he had been standing there.

"Hey," Ben managed, recovering faster than she did as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "We just…"

"I'm glad you managed to keep yourselves busy in my absence," the man chuckled as he set a thick stack of papers down on one of the desks. "Sorry to keep you waiting… I got a call that I really needed to take."

"No problem," Max chuckled. "We don't have lives outside of St. Judith's anyway."

"Well, you won't for the next day or two," he remarked as he nodded down at the exams. "They're doing terribly, so I think we can give them a bonus question… coordinate on the one almost everyone got wrong, and we'll give them the mark."

"Sounds good."

A moment or so of polite chitchat followed, and soon enough he vanished, off to do whatever professors did when they weren't teaching – Max suspected it was a lot of lollygagging on the internet. The pair, now alone again, drifted slowly toward the papers, and Max wrinkled her nose at the size. There had been seventy-five multiple choice questions and twenty-five true/false; even by her standards, it was a pretty brutal exam.

"You take one half and I take the other?" Ben suggested, thumbing through the top few sheets with mild disinterest. "There goes my night…"

"Yeah," Max sighed. She watched as he divided the pile into two roughly even halves, and smiled a little when he handed her the smaller stack. A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she cleared her throat, "Wait, see which one of us has Loki… I can't mark his work."

"Right, yeah, give me a second here…"

As luck would have it, Ben had Loki's exam already, and Max resisted the urge to sneak a peek at his current mark; it wouldn't be fair, and she definitely wouldn't be able to keep from telling him when she got home that evening.

"So, how are you and Loki doing?"

Max fumbled a little as she tried to stuff the stack of exam packages into her backpack, and then looked up at Ben sharply, "What?"

"You know, living together," he clarified as he loaded his bag and zipped it up. She watched him sling the thing over his shoulder, readjusting it to accommodate for the new weight, and then smile up at her, "I know you had a lot of trouble with the other guys you lived with…"

"Oh," she stammered, her cheeks tinting a little at her own ridiculousness. "Yeah, we're good… He's actually really easy to live with."

"That's good."

She swallowed thickly in the strained silence that followed, and then glanced out the window. Although the sky had stopped pelting them with fat chunks of snow and ice that morning, it seemed that the rest of the day would go on without any other terrible weather. However, the skies were dark already, and she was pretty sure she would have to dig her car tires out before she attempted to drive.

"Hey, do you want a ride?" Max asked suddenly, and she smiled when she saw him straighten up, his expression softening into a grin. The offer was mostly genuine, but a little selfish; it always helped to have an extra pair of hands when it came to cars in the winter months.

Books in hand and backpacks slung across shoulders, she and Ben made their way across campus to the parking lot she usually used, and were soon on their way to his place. She hated how early the sun went down these days, but at least she didn't have to turn around and drive back to work that night. No, the thought of going home and staying home made her smile, and she was perfectly happy to carry on an innocent conversation with Ben without once feeling as though he was hitting on her.

"We're actually having one last party before the winter exams start," he informed her as they turned into his street. "Corey wants it to be Hawaiian themed, but… we'll see."

"That actually sounds like a good time," she chuckled as she flicked on her signal and pulled up at the curb in front of his house. "I'm pretty sure Loki and I would be down for that."

"Oh," she heard him remark. "Great… Well, I'll keep you updated then."

Max nodded, and then narrowed her eyes when she spotted some figures scattered across his front yard.

"We're building an army," he told her, and she laughed when she realized they were all snowmen. "The fortress is going up after the next storm… The guys across the street challenged us to a snowball fight."

"Are you looking for soldiers?" Max asked hopefully, a wide grin on her lips as he unbuckled his seatbelt. She noticed him swallow thickly when he looked up at her, and she cleared her throat. "I mean-"

"Yeah, we could always do with more people."

"I do have pretty shitty aim though," she said as she fiddled with the heat gage on the dashboard. "See you tomorrow?"

He was quiet for a moment, and didn't start to gather his things until she actually looked up at him.

"Yup," he muttered, patting down all his belongings to ensure he had everything. "Have fun grading exams."

"You too."

They stared at one another for a second or so, and Max was the first to tear her gaze away, pretending to fix the heat again. It wasn't until she heard the side door shut that she glanced up, and watched his retreating figure disappear into the darkness of his front yard. She let out a lengthy sigh, and then rolled her eyes. After cranking the radio up to an unnecessary level, she pulled away from the curb and carried on home, which only took a matter of minutes. The parking lot was stupidly full when she arrived, and based on the lights and noise coming from one of the upper units, she assumed someone was having a party.

Backpack across her shoulders, Max hurried across the parking lot, head tucked into her jacket as much as she could manage in an effort to keep out the cold. She fumbled around with her key for a moment, swearing softly under her breath until it finally jammed in the lock, and she almost threw herself into the warmth of her apartment. She could hear the TV blaring in the background as she dumped her bag on the floor and kicked off her boots, and she smoothed her hair out of her face as the sound extinguished itself.

"So, good news," she said as she shrugged off her jacket and flung it over the rack. "Melissa texted me this afternoon and said I had the night…'

Max trailed off when she turned around, her eyes landing on the kitchen island; it was covered in food. Well, not covered in food exactly, but full of little plates and bowls with food in them, and it seemed as though Loki had made dinner for her.

"Evening," he greeted smoothly, sauntering toward her stunned figure and curving an arm around her waist. "What do you think?"

"Did you…" she paused when he kissed her, her eyes still fixated on the usually empty counter space, "Did you cook me dinner?"

Max finally looked up at him, and he shrugged, "Well, let's not jump to any miraculous conclusions here-"

She cut him off with a quick kiss, cupping his cheek as she stood up on the tips of her toes. He pulled her to him snugly, his hand wandering down to her backside before Max pulled away, a teasing grin on her lips as she gave his chest a playful shove. She turned away when he licked his lips, the look in his eyes a little too tempting for her to hold, and then moved across the room to examine the spread. Her stomach roared victoriously at the smells of familiarity, and she quickly realized he had ordered in from an Italian place they had recently grown fond of.

"So you ordered in," she chuckled as he slid into his usual chair, "and then put everything in our dishes so it looks like you cooked?"

"Doesn't this look nicer than a counter full of take-away boxes?" he inquired, eyebrows shooting up when she shot him a look. "I'll even do the dishes afterward."

"It's not my birthday," Max remarked as she hopped up onto one of the barstools. "Why am I getting spoiled?"

"Am I not allowed to spoil you because I feel like it?"

Her cheeks prickled when the blush appeared, and Max was happy that he had bent down to fetch something else to avoid seeing the results of his handiwork. She heard something fall to the floor, and when he resurfaced, he had a bottle of wine in hand. He set it in front of her, a smirk on his lips, and she leaned closer to examine the label; it was the same one she had bought for the family on Thanksgiving.

"You're kind of ridiculous," she said in a very small voice, "but I guess I'll take it."

Loki chuckled quietly, and while he went to work on the wine bottle, Max dished out the food between the two plates. They shared a similar taste, and on top of the glorious ribs and pasta, Loki was given an extra helping of vegetables, whereas Max loaded up her plate with garlic bread. She watched him fill her cup with the dark red liquid that had been a hit on Thanksgiving, and then spared a glance in his direction.

Was this the gesture she had been looking for? After all, how many other guys would go out of their way to do something like this? She could imagine a few, but they didn't actually live with the woman they were interested in at that point, which seemed to make the act all the more special. Their apartment was neutral territory; it was a place where she could stumble out of bed without wearing a bra and eat frozen pizza for breakfast while Loki talked back to the news reporters. Yet here they were, in that same space, enjoying something that Loki had clearly gone out of his way to do for her, and it felt wonderful.

"Wait," she started, shooting him a suspicious look as he scooped a forkful of greens into his mouth. "How did you know I'd be home tonight? I told you I was working…"

He swallowed quickly and grinned at her, "I may have asked for a favour from Melissa."

Her eyebrows shot up and she snorted, head cocked to the side as she observed him, "Oh? And what was the price for _that_ one?"

"Nothing," he insisted snootily. "I merely asked nicely, and my wish was granted."

"You're so lucky you're good looking," she commented, shaking her head at him as she broke her garlic bread in half. "People wouldn't do all this stuff for you if you looked like a normal person."

"Are you saying you're only interested in me for my looks?" he asked, his tone scandalized as she chewed thoughtfully.

"Yes."

"Well, I suppose that isn't all bad," he sighed, and Max squealed unattractively when he gave her side a pinch. "That's the only reason I spoil you."

"My looks?" she scoffed.

"Of course… What else?"

"Glad we're on the same page here," Max snorted, and she saw him smirk as he dug into his plate of food, clearly pleased with himself.

A general discussion of their day followed soon after, and Max listened contentedly as he told her about the issues he had with the take-out people at the restaurant in regards to his order. However, although she looked as though she was giving him her full attention, those niggling thoughts about their relationship had crept up on full force. He had done something so thoughtful for her that evening, and yet they still hadn't decided if they were anything yet. Perhaps this was what Tiffany had alluded to over lunch; one day they would just _be_, and there wouldn't need to be a discussion. However, Max didn't think she was the type of person to overthink things, and yet here she was, and it needed to be stopped. It was the mature thing to do – they ought to discuss this like adults.

She cleared her throat as he took a large sip of his wine, "So, I've been thinking-"

"Dangerous pastime, Max."

"Fuck you," she continued, which made him grin. "No, but seriously, I've kind of just been wondering about… about us."

"Ah, I see."

She watched him set his glass down and then sigh, which made her palms sweat.

"It's not huge, or anything," she carried on quickly, hoping to get everything she needed to say out before he took something the wrong way. "I just… This was really nice, and it implies a lot, but for the sake of my own… well, my sanity, I need to know what we're doing."

"We're eating dinner."

"Loki."

She bit her lower lip as he poured himself another glass of wine, and then topped off hers.

"I just need to know if we're… dating," she said, feeling stupid the moment the words left her mouth. He looked at her sharply, and she shrugged. "I mean, are we an official _something_, or are we just roommates who fool around occasionally?"

He scratched at the back of his neck, and then sighed, "Max, please do not take this the wrong way, but…" She straightened up a little, her stomach knotting uncomfortably. "I like what we have. I find our relationship very… comforting."

"But?"

"But," he continued, placing a hand on top of hers next to the garlic bread plate, "I have no interest in announcing our relationship to the world."

"So, you don't want to make it official?" she repeated, trying to work through his ridiculous roundabout way of saying things.

"It's not that I wish to stop or change what we're doing," he carried on, "but I don't know how long I will actually be here, and I don't want you to grow too attached to me-"

"Wow," she said quickly, pulling her hand away from his and setting it in her lap. "I'm sorry, but what?"

He made her sound like an idiot – grow too attached to him… What the Hell was that supposed to mean?

"My situation is very complex-"

"Yes, I know," she snapped. "The complicated situation back home that you won't tell me about. I get it, it's your business."

"Precisely-"

"I don't really understand how that affects us being something."

"Why do we need to _be_ anything?" he asked, his tones clipped as he drummed his fingers on the counter. "Max, nothing needs to change-"

"Maybe this ambiguous stuff works for you," she told him coolly, "and maybe it did for girls in the past, but it doesn't really work for me."

"A relationship is hardly one thing or the other," Loki snapped, his eye twitching as she glared at him. "Placing some label on it does not mean-"

"Well, I'm sorry to be a huge girl about this," she managed as she folded her arms across her chest, "but I need a little bit more than what this is right now. It either needs to be or it isn't."

"Don't be ridiculous," he remarked as he slid off the chair and stalked to the other side of the island, leaning back against the sink with his arms also folded. "I think you're overreacting."

"Fine, tell me what you mean when you don't know how long you're going to be here for," she ordered, her cheeks red at her behaviour. "Should I be looking for a new roommate sometime soon?"

"Forget I said it."

"No, I think that's something that warrants an explanation," Max remarked irritably. "What did you mean?"

"I'll not face some ridiculous interrogation in my own home," he snapped, and she watched him cross the kitchen and stand at the entrance of the hallway. She raised an eyebrow at him when he glanced back at her.

"See, this is what sucks about living with the person you just started seeing," she sneered, gesturing out to the apartment with both arms. "Things get weird and there's _nowhere_ for you to hide because your bedrooms are right across from each other."

He looked as though he had something more to say, but then thought better of it, and Max watched him stalk across the apartment to the door.

"I'm going for a walk," he said stiffly as he shoved his feet into a pair of boots. "I'll return later."

"Oh, good," Max said as he opened the door. "Glad you told me, because I wouldn't know if you decided to just leave-"

The door slam cut her off, and Max sighed noisily. She glanced around the empty apartment, as though checking to see if anyone else had caught her ridiculous display, and then pressed her forehead down against the cool counter, her food forgotten.

* * *

Loki stood on the sidewalk on the outskirts of the apartment block parking lot, hands in his pockets as he stared out at nothing. He hadn't anticipated the evening ending this way, and it certainly wasn't something he wanted. In fact, he thought Max would sing his high praises throughout the meal, and hoped that whoever might be listening would see his kindness toward the humans. The display would surely go on to Odin's ears, and he may possibly regain a little bit of his former abilities as a reward. However, that seemed lost now, and as his eyes narrowed at a nearby car, he realized he may have ruined his chances of furthering anything with Max in the process.

He hadn't done the dinner entirely for Odin's sake. All of the noxious television programs Max liked to watch always had some element of romance in them, and Loki had seen men treat their women to extravagant gestures as a means to earn their favour. He thought that if he did something nice for her, she may open up to him even further than she already had; besides, it was always nice to be appreciated. He thoroughly enjoyed the way Max looked up to him, charmed and impressed by mannerisms that many in his life had found bothersome in the past, and it never hurt to try for something more. Unfortunately, that too had been ruined when he told her of his hesitance to cement their relationship in actual terms.

After all, his powers could return at any time, and when they did, he planned to leave as soon as possible. It would be difficult to part from that ridiculous woman, as mad as she drove him, but Loki knew he would be better off somewhere outside of Midgard. Therefore, with that future looming at the back of his mind, he did not want to see Max hurt horribly at his departure, and assumed it would be easier if they continued their relationship on its current trajectory: casual companions who occasionally engaged in illicit activities. His level of arousal had started to perk back up again, and he knew that it would only be a matter of weeks before he was unable to think of anything other than carnal desires. He thought Max may also be able to help with that, but seeing as she needed something more from him, something he knew he wasn't able to give without a struggle, that prospect also seemed unlikely.

His walk took up the better part of an hour, and when he returned, he had decided his future course of action; he would let her determine what they were to become. As long as he could stay here with her, Loki could accept whatever sort of relationship she wanted… _aside_ from one that was any more serious than the casual image he had in mind. He couldn't be her… her _boyfriend_, or some nonsense like that. Despite the affection he felt for her, Loki knew that would do neither of them any good in the end.

So, why did he hesitate before entering their home? He now stood in front of their door, staring at the knob for a moment, until he finally shook his head and straightened his shoulders, silently admonishing himself for letting some human keep him from doing anything.

He found Max seated on the couch when he finally stepped inside, her legs tucked beneath her and her arms resting in her lap. She had changed out of her more appealing trousers into the baggy ones that did little for the limbs that lurked beneath, and her hair was swept up and out of her face. After slipping out of his jacket and kicking off his shoes, he joined her on the couch, opting to sit a little closer than he should. They were silent for a moment or so, both of them staring at the blank television screen, and Loki wondered if they were just going to ignore what had happened. He glanced back at the counter and saw that all the food had been packaged up, and there was no evidence of their meal aside from the empty wine bottle and their forgotten glasses.

"I'm sorry," she murmured finally, cutting him off just before he tried to speak. "I think I overreacted a little. You were right."

Her eyes flickered up at him when he turned to face her, and he couldn't help but tuck stray bits of hair behind her ear.

"I should have said something sooner," he admitted. "It was unkind of me to lead you along without any intentions of giving you what you need."

"Yeah, it was." She finally positioned her body toward him, and he saw nothing of the earlier frustration in her eyes. Instead, she looked a little tired, and quite possibly dejected, "Is it because you don't want to be exclusive?"

He had to think for a moment to understand what she had hinted at, and then quickly shook his head when he realized it, "No… I have no desire to be with anyone else."

"Then what is it?"

He trailed his fingers through her soft hair, and then sighed, "It is complicated-"

"Right, complicated."

She moved her head out of his grasp, and then nibbled on her lower lip, eyes looking anywhere around the room than directly at him.

"I do not want to leave," Loki told her earnestly. "I like living with you."

"So do I," she offered, "even though it isn't really doing us any favours."

"Tell me what you want then," he ordered, reaching for her chin and tilting it toward him. "Tell me."

"I think this is the wine talking," she muttered, "but maybe not… I can't… I can't just be someone you fool around with. I have all these stupid feelings that need to be taken care of too."

He should have felt smug that he did this to her, that he had conjured up such strong emotions with very minimal effort, but something inside him kept him from doing so. Instead, he simply nodded, "I understand."

"Maybe we should just cool it for a while?" she suggested, "I don't want you to go just because we screwed ourselves over with this."

He nodded again, and then planted a chaste kiss on her cheek, "Yes. I would like to stay here."

"Me too," she murmured, her face remaining very near to his. Loki caught sight of her glancing down at his lips, and he caught her in a kiss before she pulled away. She tasted like the wine he had enjoyed during their meal, and it seemed the beverage made her more receptive to his advances than he could have anticipated. A soft moan sounded in her throat when he nipped gently at her lower lip, and he dragged her into his lap when she slipped her tongue between their slightly parted lips.

He needed to do very little to encourage her, and Loki pressed his lips together firmly when she trailed a line of kisses along his jawline. This was doing _nothing_ to help with his arousal levels. He wrapped his hands around her slim waist, and then ground her hips against him, hoping that the gesture may offer slight reprieve to the tightness beneath his trousers. Unfortunately, that only seemed to make it worse, and Max gasped in his ear when he bit at her neck sharply, evidence of his interest suddenly very apparent between them.

"Wait," she whispered as his cool hands slid under her sweater. He ignored her as he tugged it up and over her head, tossing the garment in favour of the view he found underneath. She pressed her hands against his chest, easing herself away when he tried to run his lips along her newly exposed flesh. "What are we doing? We just… We decided-"

"I had thought we might start tomorrow," he told her shakily. "We can begin anew in the morning…"

She blinked at him, her tongue slowly darting out to lick her lower lip, and he resisted the urge to lean up and take her by the mouth again. She seemed hesitant now, perhaps only suddenly truly aware of what she was doing, and Loki quickly wondered just how much wine she had consumed in his absence.

"What do you think?" he inquired, his need growing when he spared a glance down at her barely concealed breasts.

"I'm not having sex with you."

"There are other pleasures," he remarked quickly, and before she could refuse or contemplate further, Loki rose to his feet. She wrapped her legs around him easily as he marched them down the hall, and then carried her into his room. He kicked his door shut behind him – not that it mattered, as they were very much alone in the apartment – and then deposited the woman on his bed.

There were other pleasures, certainly. However, Loki was unfamiliar with women who went willingly to his bed without the intent of giving themselves to him, and he wasn't particularly sure what he was supposed to do with her now. When she sat up and pulled him closer, his fingers automatically went to his own shirt, and he removed it so that they could be in an equal state of undress. Her eyes wandered his chest appreciatively as he descended upon her once more, and she exhaled sharply when he tugged at her trousers.

The only benefit to these unattractive ones was that it was quite easy to dispense with them. He dragged them down by one finger, and Max kicked them off when they reached her ankles. She looked lovely in the light of his desk lamp, and Loki felt himself harden further when she grazed him with her hand, her eyes alight with mischief when he inhaled sharply.

"Ridiculous woman," he hissed, pushing her back against his bed as he crawled on top of her.

He swallowed her giggles with his mouth as he shoved a knee between her legs, parting them enough for him to slip between her thighs. They hadn't gone this far yet, but if this were to be the last night that Loki had with her for some time, he wasn't about to let it go to waste on kisses alone. Instead, he reached between her legs and cupped her, holding back a groan when he felt her heat against his palm. She stiffened at the contact, but gave no other signs of protest when he reached beneath the flimsy garment she wore beneath her trousers. Her legs widened when he trailed a finger along her, and his lust only grew at the fairly obvious signs of her arousal.

If she hadn't downright refused to be wholly intimate with him earlier, he may have simply pulled down his trousers and taken her like that. However, he had some sort of strange respect for the woman, and therefore rather than having what he truly wanted from her at that moment, Loki slipped a pair of fingers inside her instead, swallowing thickly at the way she tightened around him, a breathy moan tumbling from her lips. He settled on his elbow, one hand nestled in her hair while the other pleasured her, and he eagerly accepted her hungry kiss. She trembled deliciously at his handiwork, her moans growing with each passing moment, until she finally cried out when he attended to the sensitive spot he had purposefully ignored. Loki liked the way her eyes widened, how her breath hitched in her throat, but all his watching left him woefully unprepared for when she dipped her hand beneath his pants and gripped him firmly.

She had yet to touch him beneath his clothing, and his pace between her thighs floundered when she pumped her hand along his length, the pressure so exquisite that he stilled himself for a moment or so to fully enjoy it. However, when he caught sight of the smug grin on her lips, he resumed his effort tenfold, and he watched her come undone in a matter of minutes, her body clenching around his fingers and her hand gripping him so tightly that he groaned her name against his throat. She continued to stroke him shakily, her breathing heavy and skin flushed. He almost lost himself when she whimpered at the removal of his fingers, and he gripped her thigh firmly when he felt his own end swiftly approaching.

"Stop," he ordered, his voice husky in the dimly lit room. She continued, smearing the liquid at his tip down the rest of him, and he felt his abdomen clench. He snatched up her wrist and yanked it away from him, "Unless you wish for me to finish properly, I suggest you stop."

He had no desire to finish all over her hand, nor did he want her mouth like some common whore. Instead, Loki felt a need for closeness, for the intimacy of having her properly, and the very idea made him frustrated.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked softly, and he shook his head.

"If you are not going to give yourself to me," he ground out, mindful of his words, "then I suggest you leave."

"It's fine if you-"

"Max," he said sharply, shooting her a look. "Please, I'll not… You're too great a temptation."

He hadn't meant to hurt her, but the look on her face indicated her had done exactly that. However, the pressure in his groin was almost unbearable at this point, and if he couldn't finish properly, he wanted her gone so that he could finish himself.

Loki watched her gather up her pants and hurry from the room, and he then heard her slam her own bedroom door behind her. It only took a few moments before he groaned softly, using his hand to relieve the pressure. He then rolled onto his back, his breathing ragged, and he wrinkled his nose as he wiped his hand on his pants.

What was he doing? He hated the way that woman made him feel so… so incredibly human.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**UGH. I ALWAYS WRITE THIS BEFORE WORK. AND THEN I GO TO WORK LATE. BECAUSE OF YOU. **

**Nah, I love it, who am I kidding? No long author's notes tonight because I legit have to run to work, but I hope you thoroughly enjoyed the chapter. I feel like we've entered a grey area for our lovely Max and Loki now. I figured he wouldn't want to… reach completion (oh, yuck) in front of her if he wasn't actually doing her. I dunno. For me, it seemed like it would be a weakness to him, a really vulnerable moment, and it wouldn't feel right unless he could actually get everything he wanted. That's just my thought. **

**Question: do you guys want me to reply to your reviews? I've always wondered about the protocol, and seeing as a lot of people review now, I thought I'd ask. **

**I LOVE YOU ALL. YOU MAKE MY MUSE GO INSANE FOR UPDATES. **


	28. SHIELD Me

Max glared up at the ceiling, and then tugged at the ends of her hair irritably as she wished the morning hadn't come so quickly. She was mortified at the way she had acted the night before, and decided that guzzling down the remainder of a bottle of wine had actually _not_ been the best way to handle a fight with her now ex-hook-up partner/roommate. However, she was also irate at the way Loki treated her in the aftermath of their discussion, and if she could, she would have spent the whole day in bed grumbling over it to Pat. However, the wine left her with a ridiculous headache, and her bladder felt on the verge of bursting for almost twenty minutes now, but she still couldn't drag herself out of bed. Instead, she reached across for her phone and decided to check her email, hoping that would distract her from the whirlwind of thoughts in her head.

Normally, Max wasn't one to leap into sexual situations if she wasn't dating the guy. Yes, she had no issues sucking someone's face off at a bar, but it was difficult for anyone to get below the belt unless she felt some sort of emotional connection to them. Unfortunately for her, she had too much of an emotional connection to Loki, which made his absurd rejection toward the end of the night more hurtful than she could have anticipated. She wasn't all the sure what his issue was; he knew she wasn't going to have sex with him, but to kick her out because of it seemed a little harsh and almost out of character. For the most part, Max knew she shouldn't have been in that situation in the first place. They had decided to put the brakes on for a little while, cool the action before it ruined their living situation, and then she happily climbs onto his lap and into his bed.

_Fucking_ Hell.

She bit the insides of her cheeks whenever she thought about it, and forced herself to scroll through her school email account to block the thoughts. More attention than usual was paid to pointless surveys and things, but she paused and frowned when she got to an email sent at roughly three that morning from the school administration; they were having a snow day. She poked the message with her thumb, scanning the screen quickly, and then pursed her lips. She hadn't noticed it because she slept in a wine-induced coma, but apparently there had been a severe enough storm last night for a few hours to close the campus for the sake of driving conditions and student safety.

Max would have normally loved having a day off around this time of the year. It would be a good chance to catch up on some of her assignments, get those exams graded that she was supposed to do last night, and any number of other things that she could squeeze into twenty-four hours. However, the thought of being confined to the house all day with Loki after their incident wasn't appealing in the slightest, and she wondered if any of the cafes downtown would be open for her to mope at with her ridiculous stack of exams. However, all of that would hinge on how terrible the snow was outside, and if she could even walk anywhere with a big stack of anything without requiring to tunnel between buildings.

All of _that_ would also depend on whether or not she dragged herself out of her room. She winced as she rolled over onto her stomach, phone in hand still, and her bladder threatened to send its contents everywhere if she held out for much longer. With a heavy sigh, Max pushed her slightly hung-over body out of bed, straightened out her pajama pants and t-shirt, and then threw a sweater on over it all to keep out the morning chill. She peeked through the crack in her door and was pleased to see that Loki's door was still shut, and it remained shut when she darted down the hall and into the bathroom.

Her bladder's relief was sweet, and she spent a few pointless minutes fussing over her skin in the mirror before exiting into the hall. Loki's door was still shut when she passed it, and Max almost relaxed, but immediately tensed when she saw him seated at the kitchen island with a mug of something steaming in one hand, and the morning paper sprawled out in front of him. He looked up immediately when she came to an abrupt halt, arms hanging limply by her side, and they simply stared at one another for a moment.

"Campus is closed today," she blurted stiffly, and he nodded.

"Yes, they announced it on the news this morning."

Her jaw clenched as he took a noisy sip from his mug, and Max scoffed before turning back toward her room.

"Max, wait-"

"No, just leave me alone."

"_Max_."

She tried her best to ignore him, but that became incredibly difficult when he all but ran after her, crossing the space between them with a few great strides of his stupidly long legs. The desire to wrench her elbow from his grasp was so strong that Max nearly did it, but she held back, not wanting to be a complete drama queen just because his face made her livid right now.

"Don't touch me," she snapped. Her tone was harsh enough to make him drop her arm as she glared at him. "I don't really want to talk to you right now."

"And that's why we need to talk," Loki reasoned softly. "I don't want this to turn into another week of us ignoring one another over something ridiculous-"

"Let me stop you right there," Max interrupted, rolling her eyes as her arms folded defensively. "The fact that you think what happened between us was ridiculous means I should be ignoring you for a _month_, not a week."

"Let me explain," he urged, taking a few steps after her as she stalked down the hall. "Max, I didn't mean to be cruel. I'm sorry."

She stopped in front of her door, and then sighed before turning back to face him. He looked just pathetic enough for her to hear his case, and her eyebrows shot up as she gestured for him to speak. However, he simply stared back at her in return, hands planted firmly on his hips, and she almost wondered if he expected _her_ to say something first.

"You were a giant dick last night," she said finally, the silence between them too drawn out for her to let it go on. "Like… That was probably one of the rudest thing a guy has ever done to me, and the fact that you think it's ridiculous is actually kind of insulting."

"I didn't mean to sound-"

"Well, that's what you sounded like," she ranted, eyes narrowing at him as she stuck out an angry finger, stabbing for his chest despite the distance between them. "You _know_ I'm not the type of girl to just sleep with a guy, and even while I was drunk, I told you straight up that I wasn't going to have sex with you."

He was silent for a moment, and then in a small voice remarked, "I wasn't aware you were… drunk."

"Well, I was-"

"I'm afraid I don't quite have the ability to read your mind," Loki snapped. There was logic to the sentiment, and Max quickly rethought her next comment, instead opting to return to the actual issue.

"It doesn't matter," she said quickly, waving the issue of drunkenness away. "I knew what I was doing… I was just… a little more open to… _Whatever_. You still…" She licked her lips, ignoring the way his eyes found a spot to stare at on the floor rather than at her, "You kicked me out while we were fooling around, and I don't… I feel stupid."

She finished quietly, her shoulders slumping a little when he glanced up at the confession, and she stayed still as he closed the gap between them. Although she would have preferred to dart into her room and slam the door in his face, Max let him place his hands on her shoulders, hating the way their size basically encompassed her frame, thumbs stroking her atop the thick sweater.

"Max," he chuckled softly, and she looked up at him briefly before finding a spot over his shoulder to glare at instead. "Please don't feel like that. I only sent you away because… I thought if we weren't… properly consummating the relationship-"

"Okay, we weren't getting married… nothing was getting _consummated_," Max sniped, but sucked in her cheeks when he sighed.

"Regardless," Loki pressed on. She hated the way the expression in his eyes, such an honest and open look that she rarely saw on men their age – no, men in general – that made her want to mold against him and sweep everything under the rug. The closeness made staying frustrated a bit of a challenge, and Max shuffled back a little, still close enough so that he could keep his hands on her, but far enough so that he had to stretch. "Max, I know it seems… silly, but I thought it would be disrespectful to… finish… on you, or…" He swallowed thickly, and it was only at that moment that she realized the despite the look in his eye that she appreciated, Loki actually seemed incredibly awkward, "I thought it would be rude of me to… to…"

"Oh."

His hands fell from her shoulders, and instead situated themselves in his pockets, "Yes."

It took her a moment or so to actually process the implications of what he had said, and when she refocused her attentions to reality, Loki had sauntered off toward the kitchen again. Shaking her head, Max hurried after him.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why would you think that's disrespectful?" she clarified.

Sure, she didn't think it was the greatest to have a guy finish on her, but sometimes it couldn't be helped, and no one was really at fault for that. She wasn't deluded enough to think that making a guy feel uncomfortable about his bodily functions during sex would get her anywhere, and she had always been fairly understanding of it, even if she wasn't the most sexually precocious of her friends.

He sputtered for a moment, and then wrinkled his nose at her, "You_ don't_ find it disrespectful?"

"Well, it's not my favourite thing ever," she fired back quickly, arms folded defensively again, "but I wouldn't have been upset with you for doing it. Sex is… messy."

"Yes, but we weren't-"

"It doesn't matter," she snapped. "It's all messy!"

He sucked in his cheeks as he leaned back against the fridge, his mug forgotten, and then sighed, "Well, now I know for next time that you don't care-"

"I _care_," she hissed, stalking across the space and planting her hands on the island countertop, face full of her disbelief for his sheer stupidity. "I care that instead of telling me like a grown-up that you felt like that, you kicked me out like I was some hook-up _you_ didn't care about!"

"Max," he groaned, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head at her again. "If that's all you were to me, I _would_ have… _finished_ … before you, and anywhere I pleased!"

Her cheeks pinked at the sentiment, and she cleared her throat uncomfortably, "Well, what's that supposed to mean then?"

"I don't know."

She relaxed a little, the tension in the air dissipating temporarily when her body eased onto one of the barstools. In a way, she should have been flattered that he had thought about her feelings despite all of his blood being in a completely different head, but he had still blatantly ignored the discussion they had before they had the original source of her anger, and that needed to be addressed.

"Well, get your shit together," Max snapped finally, startling him enough to make him flinch. "Next time, grow a pair and say something to me so I don't spend all morning raging at you because I misunderstood something."

"I feel as though that is advice we could both heed."

Her eyes narrowed a little, but she couldn't fault him for saying it – Max knew she would have been a giant hypocrite if she denied the notion that she also needed to express her feelings better.

"Fine."

"Good."

She bit her lower lip as she watched him turn and rummage around in the freezer for a moment, and then nodded when he held up the box of frozen chocolate chip waffles for her. He then proceeded to remove them and wedge them in the toaster, despite the fact they only barely fit, and then set them on to cook. With breakfast sorted, Max figured she needed to make sure the entire air was cleared.

"We can't do that again."

"But-"

"No," she continued, her eyes on him as he wandered about the kitchen to collect random bits of cutlery and dishware to accompany their meal. "If this hadn't been sorted out, we may have ruined our living situation. It's too complicated for us to live together and hook-up with each other."

"That is what we deduced last night, isn't it?" Loki asked as he set the pile of dishes in front of her and then quickly turned back to the toaster as Max divided what he found between them. Apparently they were sharing a plate.

"Yeah, and then we… did stuff," she remarked, "and we shouldn't have."

He remained silent on the issue as he forced the waffles back down for another go in the toaster, clearly displeased with their quality. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him; Max wanted to know about his family, whether or not he had feelings for her, what he meant by his comment about leaving. However, most of the questions were ones she couldn't ask without prompting another heated discussion, so as she watched Loki retrieve their jug of milk and set it on the counter, Max decided to take a different path.

"We're good roommates," she told him, "and I'd like to think we make good friends."

Loki looked back at her quickly as she said the word 'friend', and she immediately wondered if the idea had been hurtful. After all, they had clearly been more than friends, and it was she who was pushing them back into that box for somewhat silly – though also valid – reasons. However, rather than irritation or indifference, Loki produced the first genuine smile she had seen all morning, and she found it had an infectious quality to it.

"I'd like friendship, I think," he admitted. "It's so rare to find it properly in this world."

Max nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure what to say back to that. Instead, she pushed herself away from the counter and hurried around it to him. He actually looked a little stunned as she approached, but Max made her intentions clear when she threw her arms up around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. It was an innocent enough gesture to express how she was feeling: relieved that their fight was over, and a little shaky from her previous anger.

He seemed almost unsure what to do with himself at first, but Max held on tightly all the same, her chin resting on his shoulder as she stood on the tips of her toes. Finally, she felt him place his hands on her lower back, and she heard the soft sigh slip from his lips as he tightened his grip around her. They stood like that for longer than necessary, it seemed, and her stomach clenched eagerly when he slid a hand up into her hair, fingers knotting through it. Max blinked out the dreamy haze she had fallen into at the start of the hug, and then pulled her arms down, placing one on his chest and the other in her hair to untangle his fingers.

"Friends," she whispered uneasily. "We can do this-"

She shut her eyes when he brushed his lips against hers, softly at first and then firmer when she reciprocated in kind. It wasn't difficult to kiss him, and Max let out a soft moan when he pushed her back against the fridge, the hand in her hair tugging her head back to expose her neck. She exhaled sharply when he placed open-mouthed kisses along her skin, and then squirmed when he bit her collarbone.

"No," Max said loudly, bursting their intimate bubble with as much purpose as she could muster. "No, stop, we're doing it again."

"I thought I should make up for last night," he murmured as his his roving hand grazed her behind.

"_No_-"

"We could start the friendship tomorrow?"

"Stop tempting me," she ordered as she pushed at him weakly. She also wanted to protest when he stepped away, her skin flushed and warm, but Max managed to maintain her dignity. She pointed at him with a warning finger, "Friends don't kiss."

"But we're so good at it," he argued playfully, and she swatted his hand away when he reached for her again. "Fine, I'll stop."

She didn't _want_ him to stop. However, she knew it would be for the better; if they kept this up, with all of her feelings and all of his stupidity, they were bound to be looking for new roommates by January. So, she nodded, tucking a bit of her wild hair behind her ear as she drifted back toward her bedroom at the sound of a text message. She needed a moment to collect herself anyway, and took a few deep breaths before returning, phone in hand. By then, Loki had settled down at the table, pouring a hearty amount of syrup over his waffle while hers remained unattended on her plate.

After settling atop her usual barstool, Max scanned through her messages to the first one as she poured some syrup onto her waffle, and then grinned; Ben had invited her to war.

* * *

Thor's eyelids snapped open at the sound of an intruder. He wasn't surprised to see Jane sleeping soundly beside him, the thin blanket covering her naked frame; it seemed best not to wake her. If he could sleep sounder here, he may not have heard the footsteps through the open window, the cool night air wafting in to replace the hot one that had accumulated during the day. Without hesitation, he was on his feet, moving soundlessly across the sparsely decorated room to look through the window. It overlooked the front of the property, Jane's townhouse at the very end of a lengthy row, and although he saw no one creeping through the unkempt lawn, something seemed amiss. The gate fluttered in a particularly heavy gust of wind, and Thor searched the tile floor for his discarded pants before summoning the Mjolnir.

He wished she would have taken the offer from Stark's woman; Pepper Pots, as he recalled, had offered both Jane and Darcy a space in Stark tower after word of an attack on the Hawk reached their ears, but his woman was as stubborn as he remembered. Instead of entering Stark's rebuilt fortress, she preferred to return to the heat in the south of the country to finish her work, dragging both Darcy and a slowly recovering Eric Selvig with her. Thor had much to do both on Earth and Asgard, but if he could help it, he spent the majority of his time with Jane.

Well, until he proved too distracting and she kicked him out. From there, if he finished his work, he would force himself into a pair of mortal clothes and check on Loki from time to time. As far as he knew, his brother had yet to see him wandering through the small town, spying from a distance; Thor was eager for progress, and while it seemed his brother had made some (especially when he was with the woman he cohabitated with), it wouldn't be enough yet to convince the All-father that he had changed. After all, Loki still wore a scowl when he surveyed humans, and his discomfort with his weakened form was incredibly obvious to a man who had known him his entire life.

Regardless, Loki's current condition was neither here nor there, and Thor pushed his brother from his mind as he hurried down the tiled staircase and through the empty house. Why Jane wanted such a large home when she had so little belongings baffled him, but she had expressed something about wanting to set up more permanent roots here now that her research had expanded. It certainly helped that S.H.I.E.L.D. funded most of her work, but he figured that was the least Thor could do for her after he spoiled her initial workings a few years prior with his unexpected arrival.

He opened the front door cautiously and peered out, eyes narrowing in as he surveyed the front lawn. There was a cement walkway that split the uneven grassy area in two, and it ended at a set of black gates that situated themselves in the centre of a long cement wall. The sky was different tonight, the stars encased in an eerie sort of light hue that was unnatural for the nighttime hours, but Thor wondered if he simply stared up at a sky preparing for dawn. All that aside, something still seemed off, and he proceeded down the stone steps and along the walkway with care, alert to even the slightest of sounds from the houses around him.

He made it all the way to the black gate without anything exciting taking place, and he set his weapon aside in order to bolt the gate closed again. He disliked the thought of someone entering Jane's domain without her knowing, particularly while she slept so vulnerably with the window open. There had been no sounds within the house, but Thor left the door as it was so that he would be privy to them if the intruder had somehow evaded him and made a move while he was distracted.

Mjolnir back in hand, Thor's eyebrows furrowed as he peered through the gate at the street, and then stood on his toes to see over the wall that divided Jane's yard from her neighbours to his right. Silent. Nothing seemed out of place, and yet he knew there was something wrong. It wasn't until his gaze descended upon the messy lawn once more than he realized the depression in the grass. Jane barely had the time to keep the plant life around her home in order, but Thor knew she would not have trimmed random spots with little regard for the rest of the lawn. His head cocked to the side and then approached the indent.

One moment, he saw it: the round, smooth metal, engravings on the top. The next moment, his foot had touched it accidentally, and suddenly he was in the air surrounded by fire and Jane's shabby lawn. Thor landed in a heap on the street, the Mjolnir several feet from his person, and glanced back to see the work the explosion had done to the front wall of Jane's yard and the dividing one between the home beside it. The house seemed relatively untouched, but he saw that the windows had been shattered, and the door was clear off its hinges.

Jane. She was the first thought that came to mind as he pushed himself to his feet. As predicted, the Asgardian was shaken, but completely unhurt, and absently dusted the pavement from his body as he surveyed the home for further damage.

"Thor?"

He spotted her in the ruined entryway, clad in his discarded undershirt that nearly swallowed her whole, and he held up his hands to stop her. She came to an abrupt halt at the top of front stairs, eyes wide and alert as she scanned the wreckage.

"Stay inside," he told her, and then shook his head. "No, pack a bag. We make for Eric's home."

"Let me call Darcy first," she insisted, disappearing inside for the briefest of moments and reappearing with a calling device in hand. Thor could hear the sirens coming for them, and he had no desire to involve the lowest ranking law officials in a matter like this. "Darcy? I know, I'm sorry it's so early… Don't come home. Go to Eric's… Please, go now."

He tuned out Jane's voice, the underlying tones of panic distracting as he marched back toward the grass. He saw no other indents in the area where the device had been, but he spied one across the lawn directly beside the foundation of the home.

"Get a bag, Jane," he ordered sharply. "Hurry!"

She was gone when he looked back to the doorway, and he ignored the cries from the neighbours as he approached a second device. He was incredibly careful this time as he crouched down to examine it: circular, metallic, and atop its cover read "SH.I.E.L.D.". Thor's eyes narrowed at the word, and he held up his hand to stop Jane as her footsteps thundered toward him.

"What is it?" she breathed, ignoring his gesture and crouching down next to him. Should the thing set off on its own, he was confident he could cover her from the blast, but he still disliked her being so near something that could kill her. "Does that say-"

"Yes," he growled, hand tightening on his weapon. "It appears we have lost our ally."

"No, that can't be right," she murmured, running a hand down his back and tugging at his arm. "Coulson was our friend… _Fury_ bends over backwards for you these days. There's no way…"

"Then what other explanation is there?" he demanded as he rose, staring down at her small frame through a furrowed brow. "How could they-"

"Let's not jump to conclusions," she remarked briskly, holding out a shirt for him, which he accepted. "Let's see what Eric thinks."

The sirens were almost deafening now. Luckily enough, Darcy's vehicle sped up the scene just ahead of them, and Thor was able to make a getaway with Jane in tow. At the end of the street, however, a second explosion sounded, and he looked back sharply through the rear window.

"We should have gotten your neighbours out," he said absently.

"If they didn't get their ass in gear at the first explosion, that's their problem," Darcy said shakily, clad in what appeared to be a man's clothing and hair completely astray. She floored it into the darkness at the third detonation, and Thor placed a hand on Jane's quivering frame from the backseat, his efforts to calm her wasted.

* * *

"I don't really understand the point of this game," Loki droned as he watched Max wedge her feet into a pair of thick boots. He was seated on the armchair of the couch, clad in her brother's slightly too small winter jacket, two layers of pants, and his usual winter boots; apparently, they were going to war, and this was all the gear he would require.

"Well, it's kind of like dodgeball, but with snowballs and snow forts," she explained. Loki's eyebrows shot up when she looked at him, and he forced a smile; none of that meant anything to him.

"Right."

"If you get hit with a snowball, you're out," she explained, perhaps sensing his lack of comprehension. "The first team to be out loses, and the guys across the street from Ben challenged them to a fight."

"I see."

"Stop it, it'll be fun," she snapped lightly, which made him grin. "We could always just stay in and do work all day."

"No, this does sound like a marginally better option," Loki sighed, in no mood to spend another day with his work sprawled around the apartment as he tried to get through his umpteenth essay. "How long will the school be closed for?"

"I don't know," she replied, pulling a hat from her coat's sleeve and sauntering toward him, "but maybe another day or so? My car is buried."

He said nothing as she pushed the warm garment down on his head, but quickly averted his gaze when she caught him eyeing her chest.

"_Friends_ don't check their friends out," Max told him cheekily, giving him a poke for good measure. His eyebrows shot up.

"You're delusional if you think Ben and Garret and any other male does not stare at your more flattering extremities from time to time," he commented, which earned him a bit of a glare as she slipped into her jacket.

She had been annoyingly persistent with him all morning in order to remind him that they had resumed their previous friendship, and although he would have liked to snap at her, Loki remained calm. After all, she had been remarkably forgiving when he explained why he threw her out the previous night, and he had no desire to ruin the good mood that had returned to their home. Although he wasn't particularly happy that he could no longer kiss her, he preferred her being relaxed about their living situation to the panicked Max that she had developed into over the past week. Besides, now that they had put a halt to the developing relationship that would have made his departure from Masonville somewhat difficult, Loki could move forward knowing that he could easily disengage once his powers were fully restored with no ties holding him to the realm.

Well, in theory anyway.

He wanted to know how Max could handle their shift in status so well; she seemed to fall back easily into their old rhythm, and after their initial kiss that morning, she had barely responded to his affections. It felt strange to not have her reciprocate the slightest touch with something of her own, and although Loki should have been pleased to be rid of the potential drama, he found he wasn't. He wasn't happy to let her decide their fate, and although he could accept it, he had hoped for something a little more in the middle of friendship and romantic partners. He hadn't ever been in that sort of relationship with a woman before, but he thought it would have been suitable for Max.

"Okay, I have a key, so we're good to go."

He held in his chuckle as he eyed her; she looked absolutely ridiculous in her layer upon layer of clothing, but he was sure there was a purpose to it. At that moment, all he could see was her face, and as they exited the apartment and into the snow, he wanted to kiss her cheek. However, he did not. They were _friends_, after all; he rolled his eyes as she struggled with the door, and then helped her pushed the key through the icy exterior over the lock.

This was the most snow he had seen on Earth before, and although the front walkway of their building was slightly sheltered, the parking lot was a struggle. Loki realized why Max insisted he wear two layers of trousers, as the snow came right up to slightly above his knee. As they struggled across the expansive space, Loki had the unhappy duty of carving a path for Max to follow, as it would have taken them years if he left it up to her to plow through the snow. Unfortunately, even if he was taller and obviously stronger, the journey to Ben's home was exhausting, and full of random slips and slides. At one point, Max actually had the audacity to shove him into a particularly high drift of snow. However, she wasn't quick enough on the escape, and Loki managed to drag her down with him as she fell.

As he lay there in the cold, listening to Max giggle at his side, he pushed all thoughts of where he had been half a year ago from his mind. He led such a seemingly pointless existence now, and despite the way Max's laugh made him grin, the rest of it actually made him quite depressed. For now, it was easier to tuck those thoughts away.

"Let's just stay here?" Loki suggested as she tried to roll to her feet with no avail. "We could order a pizza, and then live here."

"You're ridiculous," she laughed when she finally managed to roll to her side, her body atop his arm as she grinned at him. "Come on, we have to go to war."

"Max," he sighed. "You haven't the slightest idea of what going to war actually entails."

She blinked at him, "Do you?"

Of course he did. War had been a part of his life since he was a child, and that felt like eons ago. He had watched Asgardians and other creatures of the realms die at the hand of a blade, and he had followed Thor from battle to battle without a second thought for years. She couldn't possibly fathom a real war, even with a solider for a brother.

"No," he lied. "I don't. I can only assume it is _not_like… snowball dodgeball."

"Well, no," she chuckled as she pushed off his chest and to her feet, knocking the wind from him in the process, "but I think snowball dodgeball is just a little more fun."

"One can hope," he mused, and then slipped his hands into her gloved outstretched ones. She tried to pull him to his feet; in fact, she put in a marvelous effort. However, Loki smirked up at her and gave her a sharp tug downward, which winded him again when she landed on him with her elbow.

"You dick."

He grinned; it was worth the temporary pain in his chest when she grinned back, and then struggled to her feet once more.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**So this is going to be a two-parter. I was going to do the actual snowball fight in this chapter, but I thought of a way to combine it with another chapter idea I had, so both of those shall appear in the next chapter. The Thor section wasn't initially part of it, but it got a bit lengthy (relatively lengthy, I mean, compared to some other chapters), so I thought I'd cut it in half. **

**I don't recall being too fond of Jane when I first watched the movie, but just writing her very brief scene with Thor was a shocking amount of fun. **

**Now, I don't like giving out spoilers, but this seems to be a constant theme in reviews: people want to see Max react to Loki's true identity. I'm going to tell you now; this will not be for a while. Their relationship needs to be sorted first, and Loki needs to actually **_**care**_** about humans in general before he can prove he's a god. I've said it before – we're roughly half-way through the story, with another possible 20 or so chapters to go, maybe more if I come up with random things along the way. **

**Spoilers, for the readers that are really up for them: Tony and Bruce will do another trip back to Masonville, Max and Loki's friendship will be short-lived (in story-time, anyway), and the real villain of the story probs won't be revealed until the very end. **

**I'm trying not to drag it on, but I like the pace it's moving at. This is as much about the plot as it is about Loki and Max's relationship, and that's the way I like it done. BAM. **

**I haven't decided how over Loki's stupidity Max is yet… It was another quick acceptance to an apology, but she might torture him a bit for it at some point. **

**I'm working hard on responding to reviews that ask specific questions that I feel like I can answer without spoiling things. I LOVE ALL OF YOU GUYS REGARDLESS, EVEN IF YOU DON'T GET A PERSONAL RESPONSE. There are a good solid group of you that I love hearing feedback from, and newbies with new opinions are always appreciated too. You guys rock my world!**

**PS: I'm in the midst of December exams, so I'm trying to, you know, finish fourth year with good marks… sooo that means a lot of focus does go into exam prep. Be patient, my pretties!**


	29. Heartbreak Warfare

"Holy balls," Max breathed as she beheld the sight before her. "That's one of the most intense snow forts I have ever seen…"

She and Nolan had built some pretty intense snow castles in their lifetime, but this one really took the cake. It wasn't until noon that day that she and Loki finally made it to Ben's place, and by then it seemed as though the household had been working on the fort for hours already. There were a number of snow men built when she dropped Ben off the previous night, and at this point they had added a thick wall around the perimeter of their lawn, and some sort of trench at the curb for hiding behind. In the middle of both the wall and the trench, there was an opening that appeared just large enough for a person and a half to squeeze through, which was slightly worrying. Across the street, the enemy had a similar style concocted, minus the snowmen, and she saw that there was a patch in the road that had been cleaned out for the start of every game.

"Looks like an incredible waste of time," Loki muttered. "The fort is too cluttered with all those… things in the way."

"I bet you'll be happy they're there when you need to duck and cover," she sniped, which earned her a playful poke. However, rather than engage with him, Max tugged him off toward the house, waving when she spotted her friends seated on the front porch.

He hadn't really changed much since their very recent discussion about their relationship, but Max was relieved he had stopped trying to kiss her. After all, she could handle a little mischievous flirting on his part, but if he were to kiss her again, she'd be gone. She wasn't _happy_ with their decision to cool it for a while, but for the sake of their overall long-term relationship, it made sense to do it. Now all she had to do was pretend Loki _wasn't_ flirting with her, and it was easier to brush off that way. As much as she wanted him to touch her when they walked or pinch her waist when she was being a little cheeky, Max had to pretend he did it to everyone else too, and therefore it was perfectly normal and _not_ part of the weird courtship they found themselves in.

Ew… Who said _courtship_ anymore?

She held in a snort as she and Loki struggled a bit to get up through the fort entrance and fully anticipated the struggle to be amplified with enemy fire coming their way. They eventually made it up and over the small incline with very minimal cursing from her roommate, who seemed even less impressed now than he had from the sidewalk. The snow inside the fort had been cleared down to the grass level, all of it no doubt used to fortify the four foot high walls, and Max smirked when she spotted a line of beer bottles wedged into the walls on both sides – clearly Garret's doing.

"This looks awesome, you guys," Max greeted, smiling up at Ben, Garret and Corey as they lounged on their semi-frozen patio furniture. "When did this even happen?"

"We started at six, finished at ten," Corey explained proudly. "Are you ready for war, soldier?"

"As always," she replied as she latched onto Tiffany for a hug when the woman pushed through the door with a thermos tucked under each arm. "Are you coming to battle?"

"War, Max," Garret corrected as he and Loki exchanged some sort of odd, formal handshake.

"Nope, I'll be sitting up here waiting for you idiots to get hit," Tiffany told her. "Tea and hot chocolate is ready for the losers…"

"Yum."

"Any chance that is open for us now?" Loki inquired as he rubbed his hands together, and it was only then Max realized she had let him out of the house without a pair of gloves on. Was she paying so little attention to him now that she brought him to a snowball fight _without_ gloves?

"Nope, only for losers," Tiffany informed him, holding the thermoses protectively against her, "but I think Garret has a pair of gloves you can borrow."

"Oh, yeah, man, you're not going to make it without," her boyfriend chuckled as he pushed himself off the lawn furniture and headed for the door. "Give me a second here…"

"What kind of roommate are you, Max?" Ben teased from beneath his scarf. He was ridiculously bundled up. "Sending the poor guy out without gloves?"

"Shut up."

"Garret to save the day," her friend announced as he pushed open the screen door and extended the gloves to Loki. "No big deal, guys. I got this."

"Shut up," Tiffany echoed.

She caught Max's eyes quickly as the boys proceeded to boast about their war tactics, and then nodded toward Loki, eyebrows up suggestively. However, those thin brows returned right to where they ought to be when Max shook her head and mouthed _later_ before readjusting her hat and sparing her roommate a glance. Luckily, he had missed the exchange, being too preoccupied with forcing his hands into what appeared to be gloves that were just a tad too small, and Max forced her attention away from him when he glanced up at her.

"Are you gonna do this, or are we gonna play in the dark?"

The group turned back to the taunt from the street, and Garret waved off their neighbour and then gestured for them all to form a huddle. Meanwhile, Tiffany situated herself in one of the lawn chairs and took the blanket from her shoulders to wrap around her legs.

"Okay, so who is starting?" Corey asked. For some reason, everyone except Loki saw fit to lean inward, as if the guys across the road could hear them all the way up on the porch. Max arched an eyebrow at him, and sure enough moments later he was bent over in the huddle, arms folded across his chest.

"It's all about speed and accuracy in the opening round," Ben replied before anyone else could field the question. "We need people who can get in quickly, grab as many snowballs as we can, and then get back without being hit."

"Wait, why do we need snowballs?" Max interrupted. "I mean, we can _make_ snowballs-"

"Do you want to play snowball dodgeball _logically_, Max?" Corey demanded, and she heard Tiffany chuckle. "Or do you want to play it _right_?"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

"Now, Ben's right," Garret said, taking the lead. "Loki's speedy… You're on the front line, guy."

"Right," Loki managed as the corners of his lips quirked up when she grinned at him from across the huddle. "What do I do?"

"Have you never played dodgeball before?"

"In his defense, I don't think it's very big in England," Max said quickly, hoping to spare her roommate the ire of three guys who proved their manliness based on sports knowledge. Hell, even Ben could memorize game plays and spout off random facts on cue.

"Oh my God."

"Okay, so here's the gist-"

"You start off at the front, and each team sends up people to try to grab the coveted balls in the middle-"

"Yeah, but don't get hit on the way back, just try to hit them-"

"And then you run back to safety, and just start beating on the other guys. If you hit them, they're out-"

"If they hit you, you're out-"

"And you don't want to be out."

"Right, I get the basics," Loki said noisily, though Max wasn't particularly sure how he had managed to do that with all three guys talking over each other. "Get a snowball, don't get hit, hit them."

"Yeah, you got this," Corey beamed as he nudged Loki with his elbow. "Max, you're also pretty quick."

"I'm going to fall on my face on the run back," she argued.

"No, I'll keep you up," Loki told her. She nuzzled her cheeks further into her purple scarf to keep him from seeing her pink cheeks. "Not to worry."

"Okay, so Loki and Max," Ben started, "and I nominate Garret."

"Hey-"

"Seconded."

"Guys-"

"Third…ed," Max chuckled, poking her tongue out at her friend when he glared.

"Come _on, _we've lined up the balls and _everything_."

"Wow, he's kind of a pain in the ass," Max mused as they turned to regard their shouting opponent once more.

Ben shrugged, "He kind of grows on you."

"Like a wart," Corey added. "Okay, let's just play this round on our own… If we suck, we'll strategize."

"What a way to start a war," she heard Loki mutter as they descended the slightly slippery staircase from the porch and into the depths of the fort. "Imagine if every battle was fought thusly-"

"Stop whining," she ordered with a light shove. "You want to win, don't you?"

He pursed his lips, and then glanced at the house across the street, "I suppose."

"Then get your mind in the game, soldier!"

While Ben and Corey began adding to their stockpile of snowballs in each corner of the fort, Max followed the other two men down to the street's edge. From there, she could see that although the fort looked similar to their enemy's, their entrance was in the center, while the other team had theirs at the far side. It would be a pain in the ass to get to, but Max quickly realized it would be harder to hit anyone from there. In the middle of the cleared patch of the street, she saw five fairly large snowballs lined up, and from what she could see, there were six people.

"You get the snowballs," Max muttered as she stood between Garret and Loki. "I'm going to guess you guys have better aim then me… I'll just cover you as you run back."

"Deal," Garret grunted. The trio across the road fanned out, each person marking a snowball for their own. Loki gave her a bit of a nudge before doing the same, and Max watched him get into a runner's stance, cracking his neck noisily as his eyes narrowed in on the snowball. At least he was getting into it finally; she grinned.

There would be maybe four strides by Loki's standards between him and a ball, so Max decided she ought to take five and at least kick a snowball toward one of her teammates, or destroy it before the opposition got it. Right. Strategy.

"All right, combatants," one of the neighbours started noisily from the back of their fort. Max stood up on the tips of her toes to see the woman atop the opposite porch, possibly a neutral party like Tiff. "The winner is the best of six, and a tie-breaker _if_ necessary… Don't make us sit through a fucking tie-breaker."

"Agreed," Ben added from behind her, and Max glanced over her shoulder at him. Instead of a snowball, he had his phone in hand. "On three… One." Max prepared to bolt. "Two… Three!"

On the third count, a gunshot sound fired from his phone – probably one of the many apps he was proud of – and the game was afoot. Loki and Garret were off, and Max tried her best to keep up. Just as she had planned, rather than risking bending over and slipping to pick up the snowball, she stomped on it before her opponent could get at it, and then ducked out of the way with a shriek as a snowball whizzed over her shoulder. On cue, Loki pegged her attacker square in the back as he attempted to make a run back to the fort, but rather than celebrate, the duo were forced to scramble back to their first defense line. Garret managed to get up and into the fort itself, but neither Max nor Loki were quite as lucky.

"Are you alright?" Loki asked as Ben and Corey pelted snowballs across the street over their heads.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Max laughed as they crouched behind opposite walls, each eyeing the thin entrance to the fort between them. "Good shot, by the way."

He grinned as she tossed a snowball to him, and Max peered around the corner of the wall as Loki flung it across the space. This time, he missed by an inch or so, and was forced to drop to his knees as a trio from the other side targeted him. By then, Max had a small pile of ammo ready to go, and with a fat snowball in hand, she rose quickly and hurled it out at nothing in particular with the hope that she might hit someone. Unfortunately, before she could get completely behind the wall again, someone nailed her right in the shoulder.

"Fuck!"

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," she told Loki as she pushed her pile of snowballs over to him. "Don't let them win!"

He gave her leg a nudge as she climbed up and into the snow fort, giggling as the other trio of men scrambled about shouting at one another. Maybe a strategy of some kind would have been handy to have _before_ they started this, but seeing as Max was the only one of their side out thus far, they seemed to be doing okay.

"I'm out already!" she shouted as a snowball whizzed by her arm, and she rolled her eyes as she carried on up to the porch. As expected, Tiffany was waiting for her with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, and she let out a sigh as she settled into a lawn chair next to her friend.

"So, how's your love life?"

Ah, the dreaded question. Max glanced at her friend as she took a tentative sip of her steaming drink, and then shook her head, "Dead."

"What?"

"I panicked," she explained quietly. "I wanted to know what we were, and when I pressed for it, he told me he didn't want to make anything official."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"But he's so into you…"

She arched an eyebrow, "You think?"

"Max," Tiff chuckled, scooting down lower into her rickety chair and readjusting her blanket. "He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to play this type of shit for fun. He's doing it for you."

She contemplated the idea over another sip of hot chocolate, and then shrugged, "I guess so."

"So what happened?"

"Well, it sort of turned into a fight," Max continued, her recollections of last night's entirety a little fuzzy from the wine. "He left for a bit, I drank an entire bottle of wine, and then he came back and we talked… I said we should take a break."

"Oh."

"And then we fooled around…"

"_Oh_!"

Her cheeks darkened under her friend's fiendishly gleeful expression, and her eyes narrowed, "We didn't have sex, but like… yeah. We shouldn't have done that."

"Whatever, I'm sure neither of you regret it."

"No, but it showed me that we could have gone down a really complicated path," she sighed. "I mean, if we had a really bad fight, where would we go? Our bedrooms are right across the hall from each other… I really like him, but it just seems dangerous to cross that line."

"Especially if you guys aren't on the same page," Tiffany agreed quietly. They both of them dropped the subject as Corey trudged up to the porch and sat on the stoop in a huff. "Tea or hot chocolate?"

"Beer," the man grumbled as he popped the cap off of a nearly frozen bottle. "That dick hit me in the face."

"Awkward," Max chuckled as she finished her hot chocolate. She then set her cup under her chair and stretched her legs out as she watched the remaining three members of her team struggle to peg the elusive enemy. This was going to be a long day.

"So, do you have New Years plans yet?"

"Well, I planned on going home until the twenty-eighth," she told Tiff. "I think a ten day vacation with my family is about all I can take… They were cool with it. Otherwise I'm back here. Why?"

"Well, it's still in the planning stages, but we were all thinking of going to Burford for a few days," her friend explained excitedly. "You know, get a couple of hotel rooms, buy bottle service at some stupid hotel club, see the fireworks… What do you think? We need two more people to get a group discount."

"Actually, that sounds really fun," Max said with a grin, perking up a little at the prospect. "I'd be down."

Burford was about a four hour's drive away, but it was about triple the size of Masonville, and actually catered to a crowd under the age of fifty. It was _the_ place to go after things like proms and graduations – and any other time one wanted to drink – because they had an entire downtown core made up of nightclubs, while also tying in to a lakeside camping area in the suburbs. At this point in her life, Max had gone several times with her friends, particularly the three boys in this house, but it was always fun and fairly cheap – why not?

"I know it might be kind of awkward to ask now," Tiffany murmured as she nodded toward Loki, who had just made a somewhat spectacular leap back into the fort, "but do you think he'd want to come too? I mean, for numbers and stuff, and you guys are still friends-"

"Oh, yeah, yeah," Max said quickly when Corey glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah, totally."

If the proposition had come a week earlier, Max wouldn't have had any issues asking her roommate to come on a short vacation with her, but now that they were back to "friends", she wasn't sure how to approach the subject. Would it be weird?

"Do you want me to invite him?"

Max's eyebrows shot up, and the tense knot in her stomach seemed to dissipate at the thought, "Actually, I think he'd like that… He'd feel a bit more involved if it wasn't just coming from me."

"Sure," her friend agreed, pouring a cup of tea for Ben as he trudged back toward the porch picking snow out of his cap. "I'll find a good time later to do it."

"Thanks."

"I got your back," she whispered, shooting her a wink before stuffing the cup into Ben's eagerly awaiting hands. Max pulled her legs in to make way for him as he sauntered over, then frowned a little when he sat down in front of her and leaned back against her legs without saying a word. Tiffany's eyebrows shot up when she saw the situation, and Max merely forced her attention back to the game, cheering loudly with the rest of them when Garret took out one of the enemy players with a snowball to the face.

* * *

When Loki first started playing snowball dodgeball, he had very limited hopes for the game. After all, Max and her friends kept referring to it as war, which almost felt like an insult to his years of bloodied battle. However, they were now five rounds into the game, winning by one, and Loki was having an embarrassingly good time. Yes, he was the coldest he had been all winter, and his ears were ringing after getting a rather icy snowball to the head in the last round, but he hadn't stopped smiling for quite some time. It probably helped that he was about four beers in, and the rest of his team were in an equal or worse state of inebriation.

From what they could tell, the other team's members were pounding back much harder alcohol than beer, which probably accounted for their abysmal performance in the last few rounds. However, they were down to him and Garret – as usual – for the final round, and it seemed like they might be forced into a tie-breaker. No one seemed keen on playing for much longer though, as they had been at it for hours, and Loki was eager to dig into the meat pies Tiffany had put in the oven about a half hour earlier.

"Loki," Garret hissed from the other side of the fort's gap, his eyes slightly unfocused. "Right corner, my man."

"On three?"

"One."

"Two."

They both rose up on the third count, but flung their snowballs in completely different directions, which earned a roar of laughter from the porch.

"I meant stage right," Garret insisted when Loki shot him a look.

"_Specify _these things!" Loki ordered, and then took another quick swig of his beer before rolling another snowball. "How many of them are left?"

"Four."

"Damn…"

"No, man, we got this," the man insisted. "Right, Tiff? We got this!"

"Hurry up," his girlfriend demanded irritably from her chair. "I want to go inside!"

"Okay, I'm coming over…"

Loki scooted back, and then glanced toward the house when he heard Max laugh for the umpteenth time that day. Every time she did, Loki always caught her with Ben; he knew she wasn't the type to purposefully play games, but if she wanted to make him jealous, it was working – frustratingly enough. Loki had never actually felt threatened by the man, but considering Max had _just_ told him that she wanted to take things slowly and revert back to a non-sexual friendship relationship, he wasn't particularly happy to see her joking around with someone else. She hadn't been frosty toward _him_ or anything to that extent, but she was trying quite hard to keep herself at an appropriate distance from him, and it made Loki irritated every time he thought about it. Therefore, it was easier to really throw himself into the snowball game… and enjoy a beer or four in the process.

When the end of that final round came to pass, the two teams were tied, which dictated they start a tiebreaker round. However, it seemed that just about everyone was equally uninterested in playing another round, and after the two teams met in the middle, it was unanimously decided to call it a day. Pleased, Loki marched back toward the house, his arm briefly around Max's shoulder, and then grabbed the final bottle of cold beer before hurrying into the house.

"This is probably the best thing I've ever felt…"

He couldn't agree more; as he peeled off layer upon layer of wet clothing, Loki decided that the heat from the indoors was the best part of the day thus far – that and the smells coming from the kitchen.

"Pies should be ready to go in a couple of minutes," Tiffany announced. "Get some plates ready."

Seeing as Loki hadn't the slightest idea where to find anything in his own kitchen, let alone a strange one he had never been in before, he left the work of dishware fetching up to the others. Instead, he took a seat at the table, hands in his lap, and only then did he realize how exhausted he was. At the time, he hadn't really paid attention to the cold or the tired ache in his limbs, but now that the excitement had died down, he suspected his mortal body was going to suffer.

"Loki, can you give me a hand?"

He shot a weary look in Tiffany's direction, but was on his feet when Max all but pushed him out of his chair. He found the woman bent over in front of the stove, and then leaned against the counter.

"What did you need?"

"Hand me those oven mitts," she directed without looking up, "and I'm going to toss each of these onto a plate…"

He did as he was told, and then looked over his shoulder when he heard Max chuckle yet again at another one of Ben's fine jests. _Honestly_, she had never laughed that much at the man before, so he must have truly been comedic _gold_ that afternoon.

"Loki, plate!"

"Oh, right, sorry," he muttered, turning back and grabbing whatever random plate he was able to find that seemed big enough to hold a series of pies. When he returned, Tiffany almost flung them out at him, and he actually had to maneuver a little in order to keep them from slipping off and onto the floor. However, despite the effort, his mouth still watered when their perfectly crusted smells wafted up at him, and it took everything in Loki's being to not disappear with them all into another room.

"So," she breathed when she finally stood up, yanking the oven mitts off and tossing them aside, "what are you doing for New Years?"

Loki blinked at her, and then swallowed; he knew this one. He had actually been asked by several people in his various classes about his plans for the day the Earth's year started over again, and thus far he had nothing to offer as an answer.

"I don't know, actually."

"Well, now you do," she said with a grin. "We're all going to Burford to celebrate… We'll get a really good group rate with the hotel if we have six people in our package. You in?"

"I…"

"I asked Max today and she said she's going," Tiffany told him, "and if you don't go, I think she'll room with Ben, and that's kind of awkward."

Loki's eyes narrowed at her – he was fully aware of what she was trying to do, and he hated that she was actually a little successful with her ploy.

"I'll consider it."

"Cool, I'm going to mark you down as a yes," she beamed, patting his arm as she marched by. "If you change your mind, come talk to me."

Loki stared at the spot where she had been standing, and then shook his head; how were these mortal women so effective at getting him to do what they wanted? He broke out of his stupor at the demands for meat pies, and soon found himself situated exactly where he wanted to be: seated between Max and Garret, a pie on his plate, and a can of cold beer in hand.

Well, perhaps not _exactly_ where he wanted to be, but it would do for now.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Oh hay. **

**So I've been sick since Friday (stomach virus AND the flu), and on top of that goodness I was studying for my final two exams… Therefore, I don't really feel great about this update. However, I'm about to start working on my Christmas update schedule (I plan to chew out a 2500 word update for all my active stories), so you can expect a short update sometime in the very near future! Spoiler: Loki discovers the joys of the human body's weakness in the winter. I'm also insanely excited for New Years (in story… and I suppose IRL) because that series of events is one of the few scenes I had planned from the beginning to do, so I'm pumped to be getting a few steps closer to writing it. **

**I also kind of like the idea of Loki and Garret being buds. Not super close buds, obviously, but their friendship kind of makes me happy.  
**

**Not much to say this time around. I'm exhausted from studying and packing and traveling to see some family… I'm also jumping on a plane again tomorrow to head home for the holidays. Here's to hoping I can keep it classy and not write smut in front of flight attendants again. **

**Seems unlikely. **

**I LOVE YOU ALL, MY SUPPORTIVE BABIES! **


	30. Sourpuss

Was he dying?

Loki stared up at his bedroom ceiling and tried to breathe in through his nose, but failed miserably. Ever since he had awoken that morning, he had been unable to breathe through any orifice but his mouth, and it was starting to worry him. Something must have… crawled up in his nose during the night, or his body was shutting down, because both nostrils were impossibly stuffed. Not only that, but it felt like he was swallowing a set of recently sharpened knives whenever he tried to gulp down the dryness in his throat; something had to have been wrong. Blinking sluggishly, he eased himself into a seated position, only to inhale a little too quickly, which caused a tickle at the back of his aching throat and resulted in him doubling over in a coughing fit. By the end, he needed a moment or so to catch his breath, and then ran one finger under his watery eyes while the other hand tended to his running nose.

"Max…"

Ugh. He closed his eyes as his head fell back down to the pillow; it may have hurt to swallow, but it felt absolutely brutal to try and talk. Was this the All-father's doing? Loki hadn't done anything particularly bad lately, though he probably could have shared the information about an icy patch on campus with Ben _before_ the man slipped and fell yesterday… but otherwise he had been the perfect gentleman as of late. No, this must have to do with the weaknesses of the human form.

Now that he thought about it, his throat had been sore ever since the snowball war about two days prior. After a hearty dinner of meat pies with Max and her friends, Loki returned home with his roommate for the night, during which they weathered another storm with television and homework, and even huddled together after the apartment lost power for a few hours: they played cards by candlelight. However, despite the weather, everything in the little town was back up and functioning after their day beneath the snow, and it was back to school and work before he knew it. Luckily enough, his actual semester was coming to an end in the middle of next week, and after he sat through a few final examinations, he would have about two and a half weeks off for the holidays.

It would be the first time Loki actually had time to himself, as Max was going home to see her family for roughly ten days, and it seemed everyone else he knew planned to do the same. However, he would meet up with them when they returned toward the end of the month, and so far he was still set to venture to some other small town to ring in the New Year among… acquaintances. The idea of spending a few days with the group seemed a little taxing, but Max was excited enough about it, and when she expressed how happy she was that he planned to also attend, Loki put in a brave face and grinned.

Well, that was then and this was now, and there would be _no_ grinning now. He was thankful that it was a Saturday and he would not be forced to work at the bookstore tonight, though he assumed he would be lucky to live out the day. He had seen other students with symptoms like these – a running nose, a sore throat, a cough – and he had just guessed that they were infected with something that he did not need to worry about. However, if they all felt like _this_ all the time, he had to applaud them for being able to sit in an exceedingly boring lecture for two hours; they had more patience than he could have imagined.

He could do this. Loki sighed, and then winced as the air further irritated his throat. Somehow, he managed to get himself into a standing position, but the needed to hang onto his bookshelf to keep from falling over. His head felt like hundreds of tiny people were pushing on it from the inside, trying to make everything expand to the point of combustion. Meanwhile, his body was weak, and as he inched toward the door, he realized he was coated in a thin layer of sweat. He must have been dying… slowly, slowly dying.

His visit to the bathroom was about double the time he usually spent in there, as he took his time with a tissue to try to clean out his nose. No matter how many times he went at it, his airways were still blocked. He also tried to flush the pain away in his throat by swallowing some warm water, but when that failed, he decided it was time to harass his roommate into finding him a cure. If others were also infected around campus, surely they would know of a way to combat the disease. How had he even contracted it? As far as he knew, Loki hadn't been in direct contact with anyone who had been sickly in the recent past.

The march down the hallway to the main area of the apartment felt longer than ever, and when Loki finally arrived, he was exhausted. Max barely glanced back at his appearance, and instead continued scooping spoonfuls of sugary filth into her mouth as she watched some terrible reality television program.

"Max?" he croaked.

"I finished all the milk," she told him as she set her empty bowl down on the small table between her and the television screen, "but I was going to do a grocery run this morning… Do you want me to get anything specifically?"

He stumbled forward, and then collapsed in front of her, his hands on her knees, "Help me-"

"Oh, God, you look terrible," she said quickly as she flicked the television off and placed a hand on his forehead. "Do you have a fever?"

"I… I don't know," he muttered, his voice sounding rather nasally now that everything was blocked up. "Fix it."

She scrambled to the other side of the couch when he started to hack again, and he wrinkled his nose at the sticky yellow gunk that ended up on his hands as a result.

"Oh, you're disgusting," Max teased as she hopped off the couch and grabbed the box of tissues from the counter. He only just managed to catch it when she flung it at him, and she pointed down at it, "Blow all that shit out. The worst thing you can do is keep it in…"

"My throat feels like someone is running razors along it," he complained as he wiped his hands off on a tissue, and then tried to clear his nostrils with another. It seemed to do a little good, but on the second go he let out a cry when pain shot through his ears – apparently, he had somehow managed to pop them. "What's wrong with me?!"

"The flu has been pretty rampant on campus lately," she explained as she darted around the island and disappeared down the hall. "I was hoping we'd make it through the winter without getting sick…"

He tried not to whimper as he tried to blow his nose again, but found that his throat protested too much to the trauma. Instead, he simply flopped out on the couch, his body suddenly incredibly hot. When Max reappeared in front of him, she took a seat on the coffee table and uncapped some thin, long device, and then told him to stick the end under his tongue.

"What is this-"

"Don't talk while it's in," she snapped, reaching forward and pushing his chin back up to keep him quiet. "I just want to see if you have a fever."

Loki sighed irritably, but sat there with his arms folded across his chest until the machine in his mouth beeped. Max then retracted the device and held it up, a frown on her lips, and then glanced up at him.

"So?"

"Bit of a fever," she sighed. "Back to bed…"

"But-"

"I'll make you some tea, and then I'll go buy you some medication," she insisted as she hauled him to his feet by his arm. "If you still have the fever tomorrow, we'll maybe go to the walk-in clinic in town."

"Why did this happen?"

"You can't outrun a cold," she laughed, her tone suggesting his concerns were hardly necessary. "I'll pick you up all the best stuff… You'll feel better after you sleep."

"I have slept-"

"Don't argue," she told him with a little shove toward the hallway. "Get into bed, and get comfortable. You're contaminating the apartment."

"Max," he whined, but when he looked back, she was already back in the kitchen and filling up the kettle. He let out a groan, and then carried on down the hall. Once in his bedroom, he peeled off his damp t-shirt, and then crawled back onto the bed, his limbs thankful to have something soft to rest on again. If it was possible, his nose actually felt worse when he stretched out atop his mattress, and from there he began an annoying journey that consisted of rolling side to side, as it seemed to empty the fluids out from one side of his nose to the other.

His eyes snapped open at the sound of a knock on his door, and Max poked her head in moments later.

"Decent?"

"Shut up," he groaned as he rubbed his eyes wearily. "Do something to make me feel better, woman."

"Ask nicely, you dick," she told him as she sauntered in with a mug clutched between her hands. "Here, this will help your throat for a little while."

Loki accepted the drink gratefully, but wrinkled his nose as the piping hot liquid traveled down his throat. Apparently one needed to scald one's inner flesh in order to soothe the pain…

"Give it a second," Max chastised, taking it from him and setting it on the small table next to his bed. "I put some honey and lemon in it."

"How did you become so skilled at caregiving?" he inquired, eyebrows shooting up as he appraised her. She smiled kindly, and then placed the back of her hand on his forehead again.

"I've lived by myself for almost eight years now," she chuckled. "If I couldn't tackle a cold by myself, I wouldn't have survived this long."

His eyes closed slowly as she slid her hands down to cup his cheeks; they were lovely and cold. There was a gargled protest in his throat when she pulled away, and he hastily reached out for her.

"Don't go," he whispered, clutching her wrists and pulling her hands back to her face. "You make me feel better."

"And you're going to make me sick," she murmured in return, stroking her thumbs along his warm cheeks before giving him another smile. "I'll be back in an hour… Try to sleep."

"No-"

"Sleep," she ordered sharply, giving his cheeks a pat before flitting off out of his grasp. As soon as she was gone, he felt utterly terrible. The tea managed to calm his throat for a minute or two, but by the time he had finished it, he felt just as bad as ever.

It seemed his body couldn't decide whether it wanted to be warm or cold, and as soon as the good tea feelings disappeared, his skin was covered in little bumps. He only eased himself under the blankets when his teeth started to chatter, and from there it became almost impossible for him to find a comfortable way to sleep. When he did start to eventually drift off, he was awoken again when he heard the front door shut noisily, and he realized his roommate had finally returned. It hadn't felt like she had been gone for an hour at that point, and Loki couldn't bring himself to do anything but lay there in a fetal position as he listened to her hurry down the hall.

He smiled weakly when she poked her head in again, and heard her sigh as she assessed the state of him, her hands on her hips.

"Do I look pathetic?" he inquired groggily, which made her smile grow. "I do, don't I?"

"I bought you a bagel," Max told him, ignoring the question as she took a seat on the edge of his bed. He watched her set a wrapped circular shape on his nightstand, "Eat some whenever you feel up to it… It's not good to eat nothing."

He grunted, his teeth suddenly chattering again as he lay on his side.

"Right."

"These ones will make your nose clear," she continued, noisily popping open a box and then slipping two little capsules in his outstretched hand, "and this one will work for your sore throat and fever… I bought drowsy and non-drowsy, so we'll get you to sleep for a bit."

"Best of luck with that," he grumbled as he popped the pills in his mouth, swallowing thickly to get them down.

"I wish I could do that."

"Hmm?" he grunted as he went to work on the second set of larger medication.

"Swallow those without water."

"Maybe you should have brought me some."

She smirked a little, and then smoothed his hair away from his face, "You're welcome."

He resisted the urge to scoff at her, but managed to mumble out some thanks all the same.

"Do you want something else?" she inquired as she fussed over his blankets, "I can get some ice, if you want? I like to chew ice when I have a sore throat…"

"No, this is more than enough," Loki replied with a slight shake of his head, his hands now tucked beneath his pillow. "The human body is absolutely pathetic."

He pressed his lips together as soon as the last syllable slipped out: not exactly the attitude he ought to take if he wanted to gain his powers back. However, how could that logic be argued with? He could barely move – how were humans supposed to function when their bodies succumbed to such infections?

"Hey, it's doing the best it can," Max said as she placed his medications beside his bagel. "You act like you've never been sick before."

"It is a… rare occasion," he told her.

"Well, right now, everything you've got in there is fighting for you," she remarked. He winced when she poked him through his blanket. "Your body is fighting for you… That's why you feel terrible."

"It's doing an awful job."

"Grumpy when we're sick, aren't we?" she laughed, giving him one last squeeze. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."

"I do."

When he opened his eyes again, he saw her shutting the door behind her. He wasn't sure what else he could ask from her, but he certainly didn't want her to leave. No, he would have liked her to stay, maybe settled down in bed next to him so he could steal some of her body heat. Instead, he settled into bed alone, but before long, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HOLIDAYS/ARBITRARY WINTER BREAK! This chapter was supposed to be part of my Fanfiction Winter Package, in which I would update every single story (with chapter lengths just between 2500-3000 words). Unfortunately, I only got around to three, but the other two will have to be written sometime before the New Year. **

**I'm also a little drunk. And editing. With a vodka-cranberry. After watching Christmas movies all night with the fam. The title of this chapter comes from my desperate search for Sourpuss booze while back in the Middle East for the holidays. That was a bust. **

… **I'm not a drunkard, I promises. **

**This is also pretty related to how I felt all last week. It was crap – pure crap. However, it gave me good ammo for writing a realistic portrayal of feeling like absolute shit when you're sick. **

**I was ALMOST lined up with reality as far as this storyline goes, but we've fallen behind. In … right now, I think we're at the end of the first week of December. I've got about two moar chapters to go before Christmas events kick in, which I'm also excited for. HURRRAY!**

**Anyway. Off to post all my Christmas updates! MUCH LOVE TO ALL OF YOU DARLINGS! HAVE A WONDERFUL NIGHT! GET PRESENTS, BITCHES. **


	31. Into the Grey

"These seem a little obnoxious, Max."

"What? No, they're cute!" She snatched the box of Christmas tree ornaments out of Loki's hands and then tossed it onto the backseat, "I think _everyone_ wants snowmen in various states of inebriation on their trees."

He shot her a look, and she raised an eyebrow challengingly. Rather than push further, he rolled his eyes and exited out his side of the car, slamming the door hard enough to knock some of the snow off the roof. She couldn't blame him for being in a bit of a foul mood; Loki had just experienced his first taste of Masonville's one mall in the December shopping season, and he hadn't been particularly impressed with the volume of people there.

Max had floated the suggestion of putting up a Christmas tree earlier in the week, and much to her surprise, Loki agreed to it. She had been trying for years to get a roommate to agree to buy a live tree to decorate and make gorgeous in her apartment, and every time someone had turned her down. Most of them were concerned with the mess it would make, the smell it would leave, and the effort it would take to go pick it up at the farm just outside of town. However, Max had grown up with a plastic tree, and considering she lived in Vermont, she wanted to experience having her own real tree in her living room. Her past roommates had made good points about everything, but that had yet to deter her from wanting the experience. She suspected Loki actually had no idea what he was getting into, and accepted her proposal because she played nursemaid for about a week while he was sick.

Classes had finally come to an end, and Loki had only just started on the real road to recovery. He skipped all of his classes on Monday and Tuesday, and it wasn't until that morning that he dragged himself up for breakfast without whining about his aching body. She knew that men were generally pretty big babies when they were sick, and Loki really took first place on that one; even with the medications, it seemed to take him a lot longer to start feeling better than most people. However, now that he was finally better, she could actually sit next to him for meals without fearing she'd catch whatever horrific disease had put him in bed for days. So far, she hadn't felt any signs of sickness, so she hoped it had passed without spreading to her.

With the term over as of that afternoon, Max could breathe a sigh of relief. She had to hand in a paper for one of her classes by Friday, but otherwise she had nothing to do but help monitor exams for her professor. Once that was finished, she could head home for the holidays and enjoy a bit of lazing around until she was back for an adventure to welcome in the New Year. Thus far, Loki was still receptive to the idea, and had already paid for his portion of their hotel room – naturally, they planned to room together, as Max had no desire to do so with Ben or Corey, and Garret and Tiff were obviously going to get a room to themselves.

But that was still a few weeks into the future, and for now, Max tried to focus on getting a tree with Loki. It had been easy to distance herself romantically from her roommate when he was hacking up chunks of phlegm for the week, but considering how much she babied him in the process, she assumed her feelings were still lurking below the surface. After all, why else would she put up with a surly attitude for the twenty minute drive out to the Christmas tree farm? Hopefully the crisp air might change his tune.

It was shortly after sunset when they arrived, and Max planned to get a tree, strap it to the car, and then pick up some food on the way home so that they wouldn't have to decorate on an empty stomach. Loki approved of this plan, though she wished he hadn't been so grumpy while they shopped for lights and ornaments. Everyone was fussy in the mall during the Christmas season, and he needed to learn to be better at hiding it. However, as she hurried to his side, hands in her pockets and chin tucked into the top of her thick coat, she realized he was easing up now that they were away from the crowds.

The farm was actually fairly busy too, but that was only relatively speaking after their experience at the mall. They marched through an awning covered in lights, and dodged a salesman by ducking into a row of obnoxiously tall trees. There were families scattered everywhere, even within the rows, and she smiled as a gaggle of little boys raced by, shouting for their dad to come look at the tree they found.

"So what does purchasing a tree entail?" Loki inquired as he tugged on a branch.

Max shrugged, ducking when he let the branch fly back at her – that earned him a shove. He stepped out of the way and fell back to her side, an impish grin on his lips and hands in his pockets when she nudged him.

"I don't know… I mean, we should find one that will fit in that space by the window. It seems like the only place we can put it."

"I had thought it was going in your room."

"No," she snorted, pausing at the smallest tree in the row and giving it a once over. "It's for both of us to enjoy."

"Oh."

"Don't say it like that," she teased, carrying on when she saw that there was a massive gap between the branches on two sides of the tree. "You agreed to this… You knew what you were getting into."

He scoffed lightly, "I think not. I was duped into thinking this was some magical adventure that we must partake in so that we can enjoy the holiday."

"What, this isn't magical for you?" Her cheeks dimpled as she tried to keep her face serious, which earned her another scoff. "_Fine_… Let's find smaller ones. These are all taller than you."

"Agreed."

This time, Loki actually held the branches out of her way long enough for Max to dart through, and they worked their way across the expansive farm to find trees that were a little less ridiculous for the size of their apartment. Eventually, they found ones that were only a smidge taller than Max, and from there it came down to quality. Unfortunately, other people seemed to think they were also the preferable size, and her eyes narrowed at the number of families roaming the aisles in search for the perfect tree.

Hands on her hips, Max trudged along the shoveled path, eyeing tree after tree in order to find the one that suited their home the best. She would have preferred one that was a little shorter if it meant it was to be full around the middle, so she bypassed anything that seemed too small and scraggly. Loki held back, and when she had walked the full extent of the aisle and returned to his side, her eyebrows knitted together as she surveyed the tree he stood in front of.

"This one's actually kind of good," she admitted. It was part of a clump of four trees: squat, round, and seemingly equally distributed on all sides. "Good job."

He glanced back at the tree as though he was just seeing it for the first time, and then grinned, "I… Yes, thanks."

Clearly he hadn't even been paying attention to it. She rolled her eyes, "Well, this could be the one. Let's just check the back to make sure there aren't any big gaps…"

Max stepped around him and grunted a little as she pushed some of the thick branches out of the way, and then released a startled gasp. Standing amidst the cluster of trees was a little girl, maybe five or six. She wasn't frightening, or anything horror-movie-esque like that, but clearly neither Max nor Loki had expected to find a kid lurking between a bunch of trees. Loki frowned at her as she glanced over her shoulder at him, and he offered a shrug in response to her unspoken question. A quick look at the tree showed that there were no visible deformities to be seen at the back, and Max brought her attention down to the silent little girl.

"Hi," she offered kindly. "Did we… Did we ruin your hiding spot?"

There were kids running _everywhere_, and she guessed that the girl might have been engaged in a high-stakes game of hide and go seek. However, the girl's face wrinkled after she looked between Max and Loki, and Max's eyes widened as she started to bawl.

Either she was a super sore loser, or she wasn't playing anything.

"Okay, okay, hey," Max cooed as she stepped into the group of trees, taking the girl by her mitten-covered little hand. "Are you lost?"

The girl nodded, but continued to sob uncontrollably, and Max deduced the situation from there. Nolan used to get lost in the grocery store _all_ the time when they were really little, and she had very fuzzy memories of finding him sobbing in the security office in the back after her mom frantically searched every aisle.

"She needs a tissue," Loki commented as Max gently led her out from behind the trees. She shot him a slightly annoyed look, and he glared back, "What? Look at the state of her nose-"

"I'm aware," she snapped. "I'm just… trying to ignore."

Snot bubbles usually made cute little kids just a little more unpleasant, and seeing as she had nothing but her own gloves to use to wipe the gunk away, Max opted to ignore it. She was a sweet looking little thing regardless, and as soon as her hand was in Max's, she knew she couldn't just leave her there. A quick look up and down the row of trees showed a bunch of people lurking nearby, scoping out their trees, but when no one rushed forward to collect the crying girl, she assumed her parents were elsewhere.

"So," Loki began as he watched the girl wipe her nose with her free hand, "what shall we do with her?"

"Don't get too paternal or anything," she droned sarcastically, which earned her a sigh. "I'll take her up to the front… I'm sure her parents are looking for her. You guard the tree."

"Excuse me?"

"The tree," she repeated with a small smile. She nodded back at her pick, "Don't let anyone get it while I'm gone. I'll find someone to cut it down for us."

"Max-"

"Guard the tree," she ordered sharply, pointing back to their prize. "If I get back and someone else took it, I'll end you."

"Now, now," he teased, hands in his pockets again as he turned on his heel to inspect the tree. "No need for dramatics. I'll lay down my life for your tree, not to worry."

Max rolled her eyes quickly before turning her attention back to the little girl. The crying had been reduced the rather aggressive sniffles and hiccups, and she guessed she had a very small window of opportunity before the actual wailing started up again. It was actually shockingly easy to get the girl to come with her, and if Max had been some creep who planned on locking this kid in her basement, it certainly didn't bode well for future generations. With that said, she held the girl a little closer when a group of teens glanced their way.

"So," she started when the sniffling worsened, "are you here with your parents?"

The little girl shook her head, eyes cast down as she stumbled over her feet.

"Grandparents?"

That earned her a nod, and Max let out a soft sigh; they were probably mortified to have lost their granddaughter at a Christmas tree farm, and the faster she got her to someone in charge, the better Max would feel. Luckily enough, the end of the row filtered out into the main area of the farm, and she could see dozens of families either rushing off into the rows or hauling trees toward the parking lot. The girl at her side had quieted down a little now that they were out of the darker forested area, and Max slowly walked her across the lot, eyes scanning for employees.

Eventually, she spotted a man with an orange vest and nametag, and flagged him down as he was walking.

"Did you need help with anything?" he inquired as he approached.

Max nodded down to the girl, who clung to her hand at the sight of the newcomer, "We found her hidden in a bunch of trees… I think she got separated from her grandparents."

"Oh no."

"Yeah…" Max trailed off, slightly put off by the man's lack of concern. "So, do you have an office or something she can wait in? Or a PA to make an announcement?"

"We can bring her up to the house, yeah."

She hesitated; after growing up with crime shows, she had a sinking suspicion that almost everyone her age was way too paranoid about every other person out there who had a slight creeper vibe. So, even though she didn't want to make Loki wait longer than necessary, she almost felt it was her duty to go with the girl and see that she reconnected with her family.

"Maybe I'll just sit with her."

"Your call."

Luckily, Max did not need to experience whatever horrors the basement of the Christmas tree farmhouse had to offer, because just as they started toward it, someone shouted for them.

"Darcy!"

The little girl tore away from Max and into the arms of a portly woman with wispy white hair poking out beneath a cap. Well, issue sorted! Neither girl nor woman came by to offer their thanks, and Max gave a half-hearted wave as they hurried toward the parking lot. She then turned back to the attendant, who was already in the process of walking away from her, and huffed at him.

"Wait, I need help getting a tree!"

He turned back to her, the same neutral, slightly off-putting expression on his face, and then held up a hand, "Let me get an axe."

She shifted uncomfortably at the thought of him having a weapon, and then glanced back at the treeline as she tried to remember which row she had come out of. Moments later, the employee was back at her side, axe in hand, and Max put a bit of a distance between them as he followed her soundlessly. He had some rope and netting tucked under his arm too, which only made her pick up the pace as she traversed the row of Christmas trees once more. The only thing that made her feel more at ease was the fact that there were still a lot of people doing their shopping around them; if he wanted to hack her up and scatter her amongst the crops, he would have to work hard to find a place where they were completely alone.

Still, the guy made her feel awkward. She breathed a small sigh of relief when she spotted Loki pacing in front of their designated Christmas tree, and she almost skipped toward him when he glanced up at her.

"You seem to be missing someone," he commented as she stood next to him. A small smile touched his lips when she wrapped both arms around his, which had currently been resting at his side with a hand in his pocket. However, rather than encourage it, Max simply nodded over at her tree.

"We'd like this one."

Both of them watched as the salesman dropped the rope and netting on the ground, and then began to hack away at the small trunk without a word. Loki shot her a slightly confused look, and she shook her head a little as they stepped back to avoid the man's wide arcs. It took him a grand total of fifteen minutes to get through the base of the tree, and for the duration of the tree-cutting, Max said nothing and kept her eyes on the guy with the axe. When the tree finally fell, some of her tension eased away, but at that point the whole situation felt unnecessarily weird as they watched the man lash everything together in an elaborate display of rope and nets. When he was finished, her tree looked like the ones she had seen in dozens of movies, and she felt as though she had finally joined some special club of people who spurned plastic Christmas trees.

"Want me to tie it to your car?"

"No, no, we can do that," Max insisted breezily, waving him off with a nervous laugh. "Thanks!"

He stared at them both for a moment, and she wondered if she was supposed to tip him. However, he simply set his axe to rest on his shoulder, and then pointed arbitrarily to somewhere in a leftward direction.

"Make sure you pay before you leave."

And with that, he was gone. She glanced up at Loki, whose eyebrows had been knitted together for quite some time now, and then clapped her hands together.

"Okay," she started, her voice breaking the incredibly uncomfortable bubble that had formed around them. "Let's get this baby home!"

"What an odd man."

She smacked his arm, "He may still be lurking."

Loki shot her a bit of a look, lips pursed, and then turned his attention to the wrapped tree, "So this goes on the roof of the car?"

"Did you think we were buying all that rope for something else?" she inquired, and her cheeks flushed a little when he cocked a suggestive eyebrow. "Stop that."

He chuckled as he circled the tree and then picked it up by the stub of a trunk, and Max did the same at the other end. She grumbled a little as they trudged down the aisle, mostly because the little needles were stabbing through her gloves at her fingers, but after a few stops for readjustment on her part, they made it out to the general area once more. From there, she had Loki wait at the exit while she paid for the tree, and then began their tumultuous adventure of getting the damn thing latched to her car.

Firstly, some asshole had parked ridiculously close to the driver's side, which meant Max had to clamber through the car and park it elsewhere before they could even start. From there, they had to get the tree up on the roof, and then turn it the other way when they realized the top half blocked a lot of the front window. With that accomplished, they began to tie the tree to the top of the car, only to realize that they had no way of actually cutting the rope once they had all they needed. Loki teased her for not being better prepared, Max offered some indignant response, and in the end they used _all_ of the rope quite excessively, almost to the point where her doors had trouble closing.

"Well, at least we know we won't lose it," Max sighed as she listened to Loki slam his door several times to get it completely closed. He glared up at the rope now strung over his head, and she cranked the heat as they settled into the car. From there, she sped along the country roads back to Masonville, and after a pit stop at McDonald's for supper, they were on their way home.

"They didn't give us any of that sauce," Loki complained as he dug through the take-out bag, sounding somewhat put out.

"I actually think we still have some in the fridge," she told him. "I'm surprised you didn't make them give you thirty at the window…"

"I don't understand how _you_ don't like it," he mused, stuffing a handful of fries into his mouth. "It's really one of the best things humanity has produced."

"I think that's taking it a little far," she chuckled as she turned smoothly into the snowy parking lot. It had started to trickle down once they arrived in Masonville again, and she predicted another heavy dusting of the white stuff before the night was over. "We did put a man on the moon... and invented reality TV."

Loki snorted at the thought, "This is still better."

As easy as she thought the night would be, it took them another two and a half hours before they could actually start decorating the tree. First, they lollygagged around a little with dinner in front of the TV, during which they debated over who they thought would be the winner of _Project Runway_ – as much as he pretended not to be into it, Loki was totally wrapped up in the competition too.

Afterward, they freed the tree from its ropes and netting, and then ran into the conundrum of how to prop it up. Max realized she hadn't actually bought one of the cute little stands that her parents used for their tree, which meant they were forced to improvise by stealing an abandoned flower pot from the neighbour's porch. Max's logic was that whatever was under the snow was fair game, and they'd be sure to put it back in January.

They then needed to find something to fill the pot with so that the tree wouldn't fall over once placed inside it, and eventually resorted to stuffing it with pillows and raggedy old t-shirts. Somehow that was successful, and from there they tackled the lighting issue. Getting the lights up and working took an embarrassing amount of time; sometimes one strand didn't work, or a certain colour flickered when it was plugged in. In all honesty, she had no idea how her dad got through it every year without tossing the damn things in the garbage bin.

However, when they finally had all the lights working and the tree up in its place in front of the window, Max had to admit that it actually looked really nice. Even Loki seemed marginally impressed with their masterpiece as they admired it from across the apartment, arms crossed and heads cocked to the side.

"Are you sure we shouldn't turn it a little?" she asked, wondering if there might be a fuller way to showcase the tree in all its glory. The only place in the apartment that worked for it was in the corner, and she felt like they were missing out on something with it tucked in there.

"No, it's fine."

"You sure?"

"_Max_."

"Alright, alright," she chuckled as she skipped across the kitchen and pulled the decorations out of the plastic shopping bags. "Let's make this baby beautiful."

She tossed Loki the box of plastic red and green ball ornaments, and then grabbed her drunken snowmen and tinsel. He seemed hesitant, however, and lingered on the other side of the apartment for a moment or so.

"I think I like it as it is," he told her as she broke through the security stickers on her box. "Does it really need all of extra decorations?"

"Don't you want a gaudy, awesome tree?" she asked, her focus mostly on getting through the ridiculous amount of plastic wrap around her box. "I mean, a tree with just lights is boring."

"Fine, do whatever you want."

"I will."

She shot him a grin, and then tossed her ornaments on the box. It was at that moment that she realized they were missing a fundamental part of tree decorating –Christmas music. So, as Loki finally began pulling ornaments from his box in front of the tree, Max retrieved her I-Pod and popped it onto the speaker dock in the living room. She scrolled through until she found her Christmas playlist, which consisted of everything from Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby all the way up to anything from _Love, Actually_.

Loki paused as the music started, a ball in each hand, and then smiled as he studied them.

"What?" Max quirked an eyebrow at him as she grabbed a handful of silver tinsel from its bag and began artistically hanging it on random branches. Thus far, there were no needles on the floor – success!

"There's a very distinctive feeling around this holiday, isn't there?" he mused as he began placing ornaments on branches at random.

"It's all warm and nostalgic," she agreed. "After Halloween, it's my favourite."

"Why?"

She chuckled, "Isn't it everyone's? I mean, when you're a kid, you get all the presents, and now you get time off from work to eat and relax and… do family stuff, I guess."

"Ah."

"You can't tell me you didn't look forward to Christmas when you were a kid," she continued. Max wasn't necessarily fishing for information, but it was a good opportunity for her to actually ask him something about his past without being too obvious about it.

He may have caught onto her schemes, however, because he fell quiet for a moment or so, decorating with such concentration that Max wondered if he had purposefully ignored the statement. When he spoke again, she felt the tension ease out of her chest.

"We did not have a holiday like this when I was a child," he told her, his voice soft enough so that Max really had to listen over the sounds of her holiday soundtrack. "My… parents needed no occasion to give us gifts."

She frowned; even people who weren't necessarily religious celebrated Christmas. Max had a friend growing up who was given presents during the holidays simply because all of her friends were, and would have felt out of place to not receive anything.

"Did you guys do anything similar?"

"We…" He trailed off, and she heard him chuckle softly to himself. "We would have a night around this time of year where we would have to clean our boots. They needed to be absolutely spotless before we went to bed, and then set in front of a hearth. In the morning, they would be filled with treats and gifts for our hard work."

"That's cute," Max remarked, shooting him a grin as she slid by him in order to get at the other side of the tree with her tinsel. "Was it a religious thing?"

"It was something ordained by my… father," he explained slowly, crouching down to hang a few ornaments on the lower half of the tree. "Not religious for us, I suppose. More of a tradition that we grew out of in time. Naturally, we also celebrated the Yule with feasts and such…"

"That sounds pretty similar to everything we do," she told him. "I mean, aside from the boots bit, and… calling it Yule."

Now, Max wasn't ignorant enough to think this was a British thing, and she wondered if Loki's family might have been a little more old-school European than he let on. After all, while she did not have to clean boots in order to get gifts, she had a childhood German friend who participated in something similar. As always, however, Max did not want to pry too much. She was already surprised that he had let out that much information about his family, and was almost waiting for the moment where he would realize that he was sharing too much.

So, in an effort to make sure he didn't feel as though she was pressing for more than he was willing to share, Max rambled on about her family instead as a way to even things out.

"Nolan and I used to wake up at like… five every Christmas morning," she laughed, shaking her head at the memory, "and Dad wanted to _kill_ us. We always thought we were being so stealthy when we went downstairs, but in retrospect we were _so_ loud and giggly over presents."

"It seems gifts are the common theme for you."

"Well, yes and no," she continued. "I mean, we loved getting gifts, but my best memories are watching Christmas movies with my parents and going out to see the rest of the family for dinner."

When the tinsel use finally seemed a little excessive, Max went to work on adding her drunken snowmen ornaments, which she thought were the highlight of the tree. Loki had just finished up with his box, and when he was done, Max handed him another, which made him roll his eyes a little.

"I suppose it is a bit of a sappy a holiday, isn't it?"

"Well, you know," she sighed. "It's all about family and childhood memories and whatnot… Kind of hard not to be sappy."

"Yes, it seems that way."

She hesitated before asking her next question, wondering if it might be too sensitive a topic. So, they simply listened to music for a few minutes as they continued to hang decorations on the tree.

"Do you think your parents will be upset you aren't around for the holidays this year?"

He froze, his hands still nestled within the tree branches, and Max bit her lip as she pretended to focus on getting her snowman to face the right way as it dangled from its place.

"No."

"Right, sorry," she said quickly, and her cheeks tinted again when he looked back at her. "I keep bringing them up… We don't have to talk about them if you don't want to."

He stared at her for a moment, his jaw clenched, and he nodded, "I would prefer not to discuss them."

"Noted."

They finished up the rest of the decorating in silence, and she was grateful she had put the music on before they started all of this. Max wasn't necessarily uncomfortable around him at that point, but she knew that she had touched on a subject that clearly carried weight to it. Maybe at some point she could wheedle out more information about his family situation, but for now she was happy to let him deal with his issues on his own.

When the tree was almost obnoxiously covered with their recently purchased decorations, Max had Loki place a star at the top, and she took a step back to admire the finished product.

"Excellent," she said with a grin, hands on her hips as she studied the tree from top to bottom. "I think it looks really nice."

"We should get the lights back on for the full effect," Loki grunted as he strained a little to keep the star from toppling off the top. When he had that sorted, he ducked down beneath the branches and flicked on the power bar, and Max's grin grew as the multi-coloured lights came to life.

"Oh, grab the lights so we can see what it looks like in the dark," Max ordered, fond memories of a glowing family Christmas tree in a dark living room prompting her desire to see it again.

As Loki complied with her order, she took a seat on the couch, legs tucked beneath her as she leaned on the armrest. When he took care of the apartment lights, Max sighed happily; it looked awesome. With the tree right next to the window, she could see the snow falling outside, and the little tree lights reflected off the tinsel in a way that made it look less gaudy now than it did before.

The couch dipped a little when Loki took a seat next to her, and she swallowed thickly at the arm that now rested behind her. He sat that close to her on purpose, and yet she didn't have it in her to tell him to move. Instead, she let her body relax against his, her back to his side as they studied the tree.

"It definitely looks better in the dark," he commented.

"Shush," she laughed as she swatted at his leg. "It looks great… period."

He fiddled with the ends of her hair in response, which made the skin on the back of her neck prickle. The falling snow held her attention for a moment or so longer, and Max snuggled into his side as she tilted her head up at him, an eyebrow quirked.

"Sappy holiday, huh?" she teased. Loki smiled as he stretched his legs out to rest on the coffee table.

"_Incredibly_ sappy."

Max held his gaze for a moment, and then let out a small sigh. It was the perfect setting to kiss him again – apparently she had a thing for low lighting and Loki. However, kissing him would be crossing the boundary completely once more; instead, she curled her arms to her chest and brought her head to rest beneath his chin. She felt him adjust himself slightly, and smiled a little when he rested his head atop hers, his hands now trailing along her back.

This was the grey area – this was where they lived.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**OH MAX. YOU SO DO NOT LIVE IN THE GREY AREA. **

**One of my lovely readers, AuroraRose16, found me a quote that she and I think suit Max and Loki fairly well. It's from **_**Buffy**_**, and I think it works for this story, and it works perfectly for the sequel I have planned: **

_**"You're not friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other till it makes you quiver but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains, children, it's blood; blood screaming inside you to work its will. I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it."**_

**Word. **

**HAPPY NEW YEAR, LOVELIES! I thought I'd get my chapter out before I did my own festivities, as tame as they are going to be! No trashed author's notes tonight, I swears. **

**So the little girl might have seemed random, but I wanted a chance to put our favourite couple in a situation where kids were involved to see how they reacted. Just because. I also like holiday talk because Loki is not from this planet... It's like a cultural anthropology lesson. ... Don't judge me, I'm an anthropology student. Anywho. I like cultural stuff to a point, but I downplayed it this time around - Max doesn't honestly know why they celebrate stuff the way they do. Ben would have been an excellent teacher for Loki on the tropes of the winter holidays for modern humans.  
**

**Anyway, minimal notes tonight. I had a chapter that I was going to put in before the Christmas shenanigans happen, but I've moved it to fit the timeline of one of the Marvel films I'll be drawing from. So. That's that. One less chapter between us and an action-packed winter holiday!**

**YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME. HAVE A WONDERFUL NIGHT, AND SEE YOU ALL NEXT IN 2013! **


	32. The Steve Rogers-Thor Invasion

"It wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Oh, wasn't it?"

Tony sighed heavily as he watched a hot-tempered god pace back and forth in front of a recently restored window, hands clasped behind his back. They had been going around in circles on the issue for hours, on and off as the conversation flowed amongst the group, and they had yet to come to any sort of effective conclusion.

"The device had the agency's name written on it," Jane offered from her place on the couch, and Tony glanced back at her with raised eyebrows. "We saw it."

"It seems unlikely that someone would get their hands on anything S.H.I.E.L.D. related without being a part of it," Bruce added. At that point, Tony threw his hands up and groaned.

"Thor is _not_ a listed enemy," he argued, his eyes darting between each member of the group before finally landing on Pepper. "Can you pull up his file?"

He wasn't keen on letting the rest of the Avengers know he still had access to Fury's private data, mostly because he could get into their personnel files whenever he deemed it necessary, but this seemed like the only way to prove a point. Despite the fact Fury's superiors were wary of Stark and the rest of his motley crew, he knew they hadn't listed any of them as public enemies. They may have been trying to keep an eye on everyone the best they could, but as far as Tony was aware, they were still willing to call the Avengers their allies. Hell, Bruce had even been offered a position in their science division – naturally, he turned it down.

As he watched Pepper fiddle about on the observation deck's new touch-screen panel, he silently wished this hadn't been happening today. He had big plans for Miss Potts that evening; the engagement ring and champagne in their bedroom now had to be put on hold with the arrival of several unexpected guests. Thor and his entourage strolled up to his security monitor on the ground floor sometime before dinner, and although Tony made it clear he wasn't accepting visitors today, the guy couldn't seem to take a hint. After hearing the anger in his voice, and his annoyingly persistent habit of threatening to storm the building, Tony eventually let them up.

He wouldn't necessarily call the group his friends, but he was willing to host Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis, Eric Selvig, and Thor for the duration of their stay in Manhattan because he felt as though he owed them something. Well, he owed Thor something, and the rest of his people were merely given Tony's hospitality because they each served a purpose: Jane kept Thor unnaturally calm, Selvig almost rivaled Bruce in intelligence, and Darcy was always up for a drink. Otherwise, he would have had Jarvis up the security and stepped into a suit to keep the masses at bay.

However, now that they had stated their case, Tony's mind was off wandering the various roads of possibilities. He seriously doubted that Fury and his cronies were out to target Thor specifically, but there were an unusual number of happenstances lately that involved the other members of the Avengers team. From what he recalled, Barton's hotel exploded during his holiday, and Bruce had been accosted recently during a visit to the grocery store. Normally, his friend could handle a couple of street bums looking to get some spare change, but apparently these guys gave him a run for his money – until he became the green monster that Tony had come to know and love.

Perhaps it was a series of unfortunate coincidences, but after all that he had seen during the past year, Tony put very little faith in coincidences anymore.

"This is the most up to date file on you," Pepper explained, her voice bringing him from his musings. She swiped her hand across the touch-screen, throwing the image up onto the wall for the group to see.

"Look," Tony exclaimed as he bounded across the room, gesturing down to the _status_ section of the file. Naturally, there would be pages and pages written about all of them, but it seemed only necessary to show the most basic information to a being who may or may not read English. "See, right there…" He pointed to the word, "_Ally_. You're listed as a friend to S.H.I.E.L.D., and they don't go bombing the homes of their friend's girlfriends." He paused, glancing back at Thor with raised eyebrows, "It's in bad taste."

Thor observed him in a stony silence for a moment, thick arms folded across his chest, and then shook his head, "Then why did the weaponry have the insignia on it?"

"Copycat?" Bruce offered as he refilled his glass with water, and then began filling Selvig's when the man held out his, "It could have easily been placed at Jane's to give the impression that S.H.I.E.L.D. turned on you."

"Yes, but that's highly specific," Selvig insisted, and Tony sighed. "It had the proper lettering, down to the last detail."

"How do you know that?" Pepper inquired, "I thought the mines were at Jane's-"

She shrugged when Tony turned to her dramatically, eyes narrowing a tad.

"The one at my house simply hadn't been set off," Selvig explained, lifting his hips a little in order to retrieve something from his pocket. "We took photos before we left…"

Pepper retrieved the phone and handed it to Tony, and he frowned as he studied the picture of the weapon. Sure enough, the lettering and label were the exact same as the ones he had seen on dozens of other S.H.I.E.L.D. weapons over the years. In fact, they looked most similar to the ones he had seen on the Phase Two weapons he had retrieved during the crisis earlier in the year.

"That doesn't prove anything," he said as he tossed the phone back to Selvig. "It just goes to show that whoever planted the mines has access to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s art department."

"And to our files," Jane interrupted, cutting Thor off before he could speak again. "My house wasn't registered under my name, so how did they find me? It can't be random."

Tony nodded, and then sauntered off toward the bar, hankering for something a little stronger to get him through the rest of the conversation, "No, it wasn't random… I'm just saying it wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D."

He had no real reason to defend the secret organization, considering how much they had put him through over the last couple of years, but he was in no mood to see a war start. As fond as Thor was of Earth and its people, he definitely wouldn't take kindly to someone attempting to murder his girlfriend, and there would be repercussions for those responsible. As much as S.H.I.E.L.D. liked to be the ever-present pain in his ass, Tony knew that it would be a loss for everyone if an Asgardian god demolished them. After all, when they weren't prying into his personal life or trying to steal his designs, they were _actually_ doing the world some good by fighting real villains on an international scale.

"But who would do this?" Thor asked for the hundredth time today, and Tony rolled his eyes as he poured himself a scotch. "Jane hasn't even been involved in anything."

"I don't think it's about Jane," Bruce said tentatively. "I think it's about you."

A silence fell over the group as everyone turned toward Thor, and the god's eyebrows shot up, "Me?"

"It's… It's about all of us," Tony added, swirling the dark liquid in his glass as he strolled back toward the sofa area. "Bruce gets his apartment bugged and then attacked… Barton's hotel is blown up. Thor's lady friend-" Jane arched an eyebrow at him. "-and company are almost killed by weapons supposedly planted by S.H.I.E.L.D., but in reality aren't."

"And what about you?" Thor demanded, and Tony flinched a little when the god took a step toward him. "What horrible tragedy has befallen you lately?"

"Have you met me?" he asked after he took a sip of scotch. "I'm a walking tragedy."

"People are continuously trying to hack into Stark's systems," Bruce offered before he could get anything else in.

"He's had death threats since _before_ he put on the suit," Pepper added, and Tony shot her his most charming smile. "What about Romanoff?"

"She's been on assignment for months now, but it wouldn't surprise me if she's run into trouble somewhere along the way," he sighed. "And… the Cap has been off the grid for a while."

"So it's an attack on the Avengers as a whole."

The room fell silent as people mulled the idea over, and Tony spared a glance at Pepper. Her eyebrows were furrowed, lips pursed, and eyes completely unfocused as she stared out a nearby window. If this series of attacks were aimed at the Avengers as a collective group, he wondered what that might mean for _her_ safety. He hardly worried for himself, not when he had the suit. However, Pepper did not have that extra layer of armor to keep the baddies out; she was so many things, that woman, but she wasn't a solider, and that's what they had all become.

He wasn't going to let her out of his sight.

"We should have expected this," Bruce said when the silence became too much. "We opened ourselves up to a challenge."

Tony scoffed noisily, "We didn't ask to fight aliens in Manhattan."

"Banner is right," Thor said. "Everyone who wants power will try to challenge those who have it. We may not be ruling the planet, but we showed that we hold true physical strength… technological advantages."

"You guys tipped the scales," Jane added as she moved to Thor's side, a hand on his arm. "Someone somewhere isn't going to be happy about it, but if we know it isn't S.H.I.E.L.D., we could start looking-"

"_We_?" Thor repeated. Tony and Pepper exchanged a look as Jane glared up at her man-candy.

"We."

"I apologize for the interruption, sir." Tony turned back toward a speaker in the wall as Jarvis's synthetic voice filtered out. "There appears to be a visitor trying to break into the delivery access point."

"Bring up the feed," Tony demanded as he strode across the room, eyes narrowed at the video monitor. However, his hackles relaxed when he saw the figure trying to wedge open his intensely fortified shipping entryway at the rear of the building. He smirked when he heard Bruce chuckle weakly in the background, and then pressed his finger to the appropriate intercom button, "You alright down there, Captain?"

Steve flinched back from the door at the sound, and Tony watched him look around quickly before spying the camera. He squinted up at it, and then offered a small grin, "I couldn't work the front door, so I thought I'd try the back."

Tony glanced at Thor over his shoulder, "What, did you guys get a group rate for the flights?"

The god shot him a blank look in response, and Tony let out a sigh. Meanwhile, Steve had reached up and started tapping on the camera lens, "Can I come in or what, Stark?"

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Get our technologically savvy friend inside, and then put all the doors on lockdown," Tony ordered, eyes fixated on the screen as one of the side doors slid open and Steve darted inside. "Make sure he knows how to work the elevator."

"Yes, sir."

Pepper touched his arm lightly as she stood next to him, "So much for being off the grid."

"Nobody's off it forever," he muttered back. "Can you do me a favour?"

"Hmm?"

"They should stay here," Tony insisted, his tone chalked full of disbelief at the words slipping between his lips. "It would be better if we do this… together."

"Are you sick?"

"Probably," he sighed. "Could you see if any of the spare bedrooms are set up?"

She gave him a quick smile before squeezing his arm again, and then made her way toward the elevator. Ever grateful for her for her presence, Tony turned back to face the screen. In the background, he heard Pepper greet Steve as he stumbled off the lift.

"Captain," Thor boomed as he hurried across the room to the newest arrival. "What brings you here?"

"Questions," Steve replied, and Tony finally opted to take a seat next to Bruce – it was much easier to see the show from there. "I was jumped on my way home from a pub one night while I was in England… They were almost successful."

"How is that possible?" Selvig inquired. "You're a super soldier-"

"That's generally how it goes, Mr. Selvig," the blond mused. He then dipped his head a little to Jane and Darcy, and Tony smirked when the latter blushed. "These guys weren't… I don't think they were human. Something seemed off."

"Excellent," Tony muttered.

"And they tried to attack me with this," the Captain finished. Tony straightened up as the man dropped a clump of material on the glass table in front of him. "Don't touch it… It'll burn your fingers."

Jane was the first on the scene, pushing the corners of the cloth to the side to reveal an ornate dagger, which certainly caught Tony's attention. He leaned forward, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he studied the foreign glyphs along its blade.

"That writing is not of this realm," Thor told them, breaking the stunned silence as he loomed over the blade. "I cannot be sure the exact origins… I know I have seen it before."

"So I was right?" Steve asked hopefully, "They weren't human, were they?"

Thor shook his head, "Not if they knew how to wield it properly."

"Well, what's it for?" Tony asked, and Bruce smacked his hand away as he reached for it.

"If I could read it, I would have a better idea," Thor remarked. "You will not be able to find any texts on Earth that will translate it."

Jane cleared her throat, "Don't you know someone that could? Maybe there's a connection between the Captain's attack and ours."

"You were also attacked?" Steve queried, concern evident in his tone. "Are you alright?"

"We survived," Darcy said, her first real contribution to the conversation for a few hours.

"I have a suggestion," Thor remarked, cutting Steve off before he could speak again, "but it may not necessarily be favourable…"

"If it gets us progress, I'm all ears," Steve insisted. Tony made a face, not particularly liking where this may be going.

Thor seemed hesitant at first, shaking his head a few times, and then sighed, "Loki."

"No."

It was Tony who spoke first, and although the rest of the group was quiet, they seemed just as uneasy as he did about it.

"He has many faults, but Loki was far more academic than I ever was when we were young," Thor reasoned. "He traveled to many a world in his absence from Asgard. If anyone is a master of ancient and foreign languages, it is Loki."

"But he doesn't have any of his powers," Tony remarked, waving the notion off as he took another sip of his drink.

"Intelligence is not a power my father would deprive of anyone," the Asgardian told him. "Loki surely retains his memories and the knowledge he has acquired over the centuries. Perhaps it is not useful to him in his current state, but he was not one to forget things."

Steve shook his head, "I don't want to deal with Loki."

"He does not have any of his godly power," Thor continued. "While he keeps his knowledge, he is no more harmful than any mortal man. That is his punishment… to live as a race of people he hates, until he can learn to value them."

"Should we be insulted?" Bruce muttered under his breath, which made Tony shoot him a look.

"It would be foolish to let a grudge keep us from finding answers!"

"This coming from the guy who was ready to crucify S.H.I.E.L.D. twenty minutes ago?" Tony snorted, rolling his eyes and finishing his drink.

"I will keep my brother in line," Thor promised. "It cannot hurt us to see what he knows… For the sake of the safety of those _beyond_ the Avengers, we should follow all tracks."

As much as he wished they wouldn't, his thoughts immediately strayed to Pepper. He swallowed thickly, and then ran a hand through his hair, "Captain?"

"If it will help us, we could… see if Loki knows anything."

He glanced at Bruce beside him on the couch, and his friend merely shrugged, "I wouldn't mind seeing Vermont in the winter."

Tony wrinkled his nose at him, and then sighed irritably.

"_Fine_," he spat, "but you guys are paying for any and all damages we do to that little town when it takes a turn for the worse. I'm sick of footing the bill…"

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**I actually really loathe big group dialogue scenes like this. I find them really challenging to write, but I really wanted to do the scene. Hopefully it worked out. I mean, how can any of us get better as writers unless we write things we don't think we're good at? So yeay for a challenge. I wrote this one on the airplane on my way back from my vacation – no scandalous sex scenes with fish tails THIS time for my lovely flight attendants!**

**I'm incredibly excited for the next chapter. Spoiler: Loki and Max are in for a surprise. I can't freakin' wait. In fact, I can't wait for most of the rest of this story… I've been playing all the scenes over in my head since I started this in August, and I have scenes from the sequel cemented out, and then the sequel to the sequel… I wish I could just type like the wind with no wrist pain and chew them all out for you. But alas. **

**I missed Max and Loki, but their cuteness was suffocating me for a bit there. Had to kick them out and focus on wartime. I shamelessly took a bit from the Iron Man 3 trailer – sort of the overall feel for Tony after the New York incident. **

**Right! That's all for now! I've got the next chapter basically planned, but I'll need to show my other stories a bit of love too before I get to work on the update. I suspect it'll be started sometime next week. I'm also back to uni on Monday , so regular school-time updates can be expected!**

**LOVE YOU ALL FOR YOUR INCREDIBLE SUPPORT FOR THIS STORY. IT WARMS MY HEART AND GIVES ME FEELS. GOOD FEELS. NOT AWKWARD FEELS. LOVE YOU!**


	33. Cups

Afternoon television was absolutely terrible. Loki's eyes narrowed at the idiot who claimed he _wasn't_ the father of some hideous woman's child, and he wondered if anyone had the courage to correct his inability to use proper grammar before they revealed he _was_ the father. There were a million other things he would rather be doing at that moment, but seeing as he was stuck here, without powers, and in the midst of examinations that were required to maintain his attendance at college, Loki settled on having something else entertain him. He was sick of reading over his study notes for the final exam of the term, which was tomorrow, but he was also in a bit of a mood lately, which meant he had been living on the couch.

He _hated_ feeling like this. Max had been busy over the last few days with her last assignments and monitoring exams for professors, so he had no one to distract him. His situation was starting to feel hopeless; Loki thought he had been making great strides lately by befriending humans, and yet Odin hadn't given him even a smidgen of his old powers as a reward. Max was lovely, as always, but whenever he felt himself slipping into a routine with her, he'd stumble back and realize he was setting down roots. He did not want to stay in this realm forever, but his future looked bleak. After all, Thor was powerless for a few weeks at best, and Loki now verged on almost four months without any sort of give.

At this point, he wasn't really sure what else he could be doing. Ludwick had basically exhausted his patience in a matter of weeks; Loki could tolerate different sorts of personalities, but the man was an absolute antisocial nightmare. Whenever he tried to get time alone with him, Loki found the conversations stunted and forced, and he left feeling no closer to learning about Earth's space program. Although he did not want to give up on his one connection to the wider universe, it seemed like Ludwick may have to be put on hold in order for Loki to investigate alternative routes.

Naturally, one might think alternative routes fell from the sky, and yet Loki remained stumped. He didn't have enough money to get beyond a few towns over, let alone anywhere marginally important. During his time controlling members of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agency, he had made a number of contacts with terrorist groups around the world, and most of them had money. However, those contacts meant absolutely nothing when he had no way of finding them. Out of all the cities in the world, the All-father _had_ to send him to one in the middle of nowhere; it was a town where the most exciting thing in recent days had been a winter parade through the downtown core, which Max had forced him to sit through.

Yes, he could see Odin's reasoning – if he had dropped him somewhere near a metropolis with technology, Loki would have been able to find someone to help him. This way, the lesson needed to be learned, but he still couldn't quite figure out how. It was obvious he felt something for Max, as much as it surprised him, and he might actually consider Garret and Tiffany companions of some sort, but it was so terribly difficult to appreciate humanity when they were all blundering simpletons. He really was trying, but they all made it so hard.

Loki wondered if he brought the contents of reality television programming up to Asgard for Odin's viewing pleasure, would the All-father force him to appreciate humanity then? Honestly, he hadn't a single clue about how Max tolerated this garbage, and yet for some reason or another, he couldn't turn it off. Even as one terrible show came to an end, Loki didn't have the willpower to reach all the way across the couch for the remote to turn the box off or switch channels. Therefore, he was forced to sit through another hour of poor quality programming for his sluggishness.

However, with the start of a new episode meant that he was closer to the time when Max was due to return. It was already late in the afternoon, and she needed to proctor one final exam that day before she left for home. He wasn't thrilled to see her leave, because he anticipated an exceptionally boring ten days until she returned. However, he was sure there would be a few days he enjoyed immensely because he would finally get some privacy. Not that he really _needed_ more privacy, but he hadn't actually lived this close with someone at any point in his life. Yes, he grew up with Thor and shared a domain with his parents, but the palace was so expansive that it almost felt like he was by himself when on his designated corridor. Here, he shared almost every inch of the apartment with a woman, and sometimes it could be tiring.

But then again, there were perks to living with a woman like Max; she was much nicer to look at first thing in the morning than Thor ever had.

Loki was face-first in the fridge during a commercial break when he heard a knock at the front door. Frowning, he stopped his rummaging to straighten up and listen, only to push the thick, white door shut when there was another knock. His eyes narrowed as he approached, and the knocks grew a little more insistent with each passing moment. He briefly regretted not turning the television off, as the program blaring behind him was absolutely ridiculous, but he figured it might frighten off whoever had bothered to drop by the apartment. As far as he knew, everyone he cared about either had a key (Max) or had left for their holiday already (Garret).

He unlocked the door noisily, and then pulled it open, his frown deepening as his eyes swept over the man in front of him: shorter than him, a shaved head, stocky but quite muscular, and skin several shades darker from what appeared to be the sun. He seemed… familiar, and yet Loki couldn't immediately place him.

"Hey, man, you must be Loki."

He stared down at the extended hand for a moment – worn, slightly callused, large – and then exchanged the customary shake that he had seen many people do.

"Yes," he managed, "I am. I'm sorry… I don't… quite know who you are."

"Nolan," the man replied with a toothy grin. He then smacked Loki on the shoulder as he stepped around him and into the apartment. "Max's brother? I'm sure I've been mentioned at least once-"

"Oh, yes, yes," Loki said as he shut the door, slightly unnerved that the man had just walked in without an invitation. "Yes, once or twice." His eyes followed the new arrival as he moved into the kitchen and proceeded to help himself to a glass of water, "I thought you were… somewhere else. Army man, correct?"

"Yeah… A buddy of mine switched my rotation schedule with his so I could be here when Max was off school," he explained, leaning back against the counter. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"Shortly," Loki replied, his tone clipped as he spied a wet trail across the recently cleaned floors. "I don't mean to be rude, but… what are you doing _here_?"

The man looked positively giddy as he finished his drink and set the glass in the sink, "I came up to surprise Max… We're actually going to Cancun for the break, but she has no idea. She doesn't even know I'm back."

"Oh, that's… nice."

"I'm pretty excited to see her face," Nolan confessed with a smirk. "She usually cries… I'm aiming for tears."

His eyes narrowed, unable to tell if the man was serious or not; what was the fun in making a woman cry?

"Charming."

"Oh, before I forget…" Loki situated himself against the back of the couch, arms folded across his chest as he watched Nolan rummage about in his pockets for a moment. The man then produced a noisy set of keys, and pulled a large black one from the ring. "I'm going to drive Max in my car, so Mom suggested we leave you a spare key for Max's car while she's gone… Just in case you need something."

Loki felt the tension ease out of his shoulders as he watched the key slide across the island toward him, and he shook his head a little, "That's very generous of you…"

"Yeah, it's pretty shitty to be stuck here in the winter without a car," Nolan chuckled as he scratched at his ear. "You seem to have made it into my mom's good books, so she was worried."

He wasn't really all that sure what to say. As far as he recalled, he hadn't done anything out of the ordinary for Max's mother other than eat copious amounts of her food. Yet here she was, looking out for him from a distance. The gesture tugged at his heart in an almost uncomfortable way, and he cleared his throat as he leaned forward to grab the key and stuff it in his pocket.

"Please be sure to give her my sincerest thanks," Loki managed once he was settled back against the couch again, his posture noticeably relaxed now. "Truly."

"Oh, for sure, man," Nolan assured him with a nod. "She wanted to send me up with food for you, but my dad sort of squashed that before it went anywhere."

He grinned, "Well, you can assure her that I can cook by myself for ten days…"

"Right, right," the man nodded again, and then cocked his head to the side. "So, you and Max, huh?"

"S-Sorry?"

"You don't have to confirm or deny, she'll tell me everything anyway," he insisted with a grin. "But as the big brother, I need to give the obligatory speech while I'm in the same country… If you hurt my sister, I'll find you and slit your throat in your sleep. Cool?"

Loki's eyebrows shot up as he watched the man saunter around the counter, "I…"

"Relax, man," Nolan laughed, patting him on the arm as he passed, moving toward the hall. "You haven't done anything yet."

"Right."

He couldn't exactly take a threat like that seriously when it came from a man who, according to Max, used to sit in the back garden and eat dirt as a child.

However, he tried his best to feign a frightened expression when the man glanced back his way. They stared at one another for a moment, and if one were to study the interaction from a distance, one might assume they were sizing the other man up. However, before either could get another word in, they both heard the front door unlocking noisily, and Nolan bounded back and into Max's room at the sound. Loki felt as though he ought to look more "normal" than simply leaning against the back of the couch, but he had no time to react as Max stumbled in, her hair a mess and cheeks red from the wind.

"I'm free!" she squealed as she slammed the door shut behind her. She then tossed her keys onto the nearby counter and twirled in a circle, "Free until January!"

"Congratulations," Loki chuckled. He readjusted his posture enough to appear as though he had just stopped at the couch when he heard her arrive, "I'll be thinking of you while I write my exam tomorrow."

"Yeah, looks like you're studying hard." She nodded back toward the television box, and Loki cringed when he realized that his terrible reality program was still blaring away.

He squared his shoulders, "I'm on a break."

"Whatever," she grinned as she shrugged off her massive jacket and stabbed it on the coat rack. "Let's order pizza!"

It took a lot of effort to keep his eyes from flickering back to her bedroom, but somehow he managed to contain the secret within, "Now?"

"I've been craving it all day," she sighed, and he decided it was acceptable to let his eyes wander her figure as she bent over to unlace her boots and yank them off her feet. "I'll call it in and then pick it up if you want to study a bit more."

"Yes," Loki replied with a small smile. "Anything you'd like."

"Some kid brought a slice into his exam today and I've just been _craving_ it."

"That was bold of him."

"Yeah, he couldn't keep it because it was a distraction," she told him with a bit of a laugh, thumbing through their stack of take-out menus next to the fridge. "Have you seen the one for the pizza place?"

"I…" Loki trailed off, suddenly finding the perfect opportunity to get on Nolan's good side. "I think it's in your room, actually. Didn't we order from the laptop last time?"

"Right, we definitely did!" She nearly skipped by him, clearly happy to be finished with her schooling for the year. "We should do that again… It was way easier."

"Hmm."

"The usual Meat Lover's for you then?"

She was walking backward now, her usual flirtatious grin on her lips, and Loki smiled, "Yes."

Before she could get another word in, Nolan lunged from her bedroom doorway with a yell, which made Max emit the shrillest scream Loki had ever heard from any creature in any realm. The terror on her face was short-lived, thankfully, and moments later she had launched herself at her sibling, arms wrapped around his neck and incoherent words babbling from her lips.

He couldn't remember the last time any of his "family" had been that excited to see him. He watched for a moment, listening to Nolan give his greetings and beseech his sister not to cry – despite the ridiculous smirk on his lips visible over Max's shoulder – until he felt as though he was intruding on a private moment. So, he brought his legs up and over the back of the couch and flopped down, opting to finally lower the volume on the ridiculous reality program and switch to something of more substance. As hard as he tried to focus on the television box, he kept hearing giggles and squeaks from Max's room, accompanied by Nolan's clearly excited baritone, which made it difficult to concentrate on anything.

Strangely enough, he felt himself beaming like an idiot whenever the noise grew too much, and he wondered if giddiness was infectious. He cleared his throat when he heard someone traipsing down the hall, schooling his features to show that he hadn't been listening to anything, and then looked up at Max as she hurried toward him.

"Did you know he was here?" she asked as she hopped up to the couch's back. Loki was about to comment when she wrapped her arms his neck from behind, the side of her face pressed to his, and the squeeze stemmed the words from coming out. "We're going to Cancun! Today is amazing!"

"Yes, he told me," Loki managed, grasping her wrist and stroking it with her thumb. "You two are rather similar."

"Well, maybe a little," she giggled, her breath tickling his neck. He glanced to the side just as her eyes flickered up to the television box, and her grip around him loosened, "Are you watching _Dr. Phil_?"

"I… Well, it's the only thing that's on," Loki said hastily, fidgeting with the remote as she laughed. "You've watched far worse programs-"

"Max!" Nolan called from her bedroom, "Come pack your shit… Or I can do it-"

"Don't touch my stuff," she bellowed back, and in a second she was gone. The noise resumed once the siblings were brought back together, and Loki couldn't imagine what it would have been like living in the same house for any extended period of time. Once she was gone, he flicked back to the initial channel he had been on, and opted to stare blankly at the screen as he listened to Max prattle on with her brother.

His stomach gurgled curiously, and even though he was pleased Max was finally reunited with her brother, whom she clearly had a strong bond with, he wished she had gotten around to ordering that pizza. He sighed and spared a quick look at the clock; it wasn't quite close enough to dinner time to order yet, but perhaps once the duo left he would see about placing an order.

Mind you, how exactly was he supposed to do that? All of the real technology in the apartment belonged to Max, and he was sure she was packing it up now. Although, they were going to leave him her vehicle, which, in theory, meant he could drive anywhere he wanted.

He could drive to somewhere of importance. The thought numbed him, and Loki simply stared ahead, eyes unfocused, deaf to the noise around him. He had transportation. Max's family had left him a way out of the nowhere town he found himself in…

But then again, he didn't have the slightest clue about motor vehicle technology beyond the basics. He was sure they needed oil of some kind, but he did not want to get four towns over and run out of motor fluid, and then be stuck somewhere _without_ Max to make it tolerable.

No, he may have had the transportation, but he did not have the knowhow about its inner workings, which made it reckless to take for long distances. Instead, he decided he would use it to drive somewhere into town for dinner.

"It's ten days on a tropical island," Nolan droned suddenly as the pair thundered down the hall. "Why is this thing so heavy? You need shorts, a bathing suit, and some tops-"

"You're not a girl, so you don't get an opinion on my packing," Max snapped lightheartedly, and Loki turned, his elbow resting on the backrest of the couch, to watch the scene. Her bags were _monstrous _in size!

"Goodness, Max…"

Nolan smirked, "_Thank_ you."

"Shut up," she sniped, pointing a finger at Loki. Her tone gave off the impression of seriousness, but the silly smile on her lips made that null and void. When she no doubt realized that her efforts to persuade them otherwise were futile, she shoved a rather large bag against her brother, "Here, can you put this one in the trunk?"

Her brother rolled his eyes as he accepted what appeared to be her second bag, and then disappeared outside.

"So," she started, turning back on her heel to face him, arms folded across her chest. "Apparently you get my car while I'm gone."

"It would seem Mummy is very fond of me," he teased, which made her eyes narrow. "Apparently."

"Apparently they also forgot you don't have a license."

"Apparently."

"Do _not_ wreck my car," she ordered, "and _don't_ get pulled over by the cops."

"Max, I'm not a simpleton," Loki crooned, head cocked to the side as he observed her. She was trying so desperately to be serious with him, but there was too much excitement pulsating from her limbs to keep her on track. She was literally bouncing on the spot. "I think I can manage driving to the grocery and back again."

"Okay, but… just for emergencies," she continued, glancing back at the door and out to the window. "I mean, if there's a blizzard, take the car."

"It will be in one piece when you return, I promise."

She sighed, and then scooped her hair up into a ridiculous ball on top of her head, "I love that no one even _asked_ me about _my_ car-"

"Would you like me to give the key back?" he asked as he retrieved the key Nolan had brought from his pocket. She eyed it for a moment, and then shook her head.

"No, keep it for emergencies."

"Right."

"Picking up pizza is _not_ an emergency," she teased, which made him roll his eyes as dramatically as he possibly could. He wanted to get another quip in, but was interrupted by Nolan's return, his cheeks equally as rosy as Max's had been earlier.

"Okay, let's go," he told her. "Mom's got dinner on the go for us."

"Ugh."

The trio exchanged looks with one another, and it was Nolan who spoke first. He moved toward Loki with his hand extended again, and Loki was quick to get back up on his feet to exchange the hand shaking ritual.

"Good to meet you, man."

"And you."

"Take care of my sister when she gets back," the man finished, giving Loki's hand a bit of a squeeze. He heard Max scoff in the background, but there was a certain sort of gravity to Nolan's tone that made Loki nod. With the silent promise exchanged between them, a promise Loki never thought he would have made in regards to a human's life, the man was gone.

"I'm so excited," Max squealed as she slipped into her warmer clothing. "I'll bring you back some sunshine."

"I would appreciate that," he remarked softly.

They stood before one another for one moment, and in the next, Max had flung her arms around his neck, standing up on the tips of her toes to reach him properly. He was a bit sluggish to respond, his arms loose around her back, and he blinked back his surprise when she planted a firm kiss directly to his lips.

"Cancun!" she squealed as she gripped his shoulders. He licked his lips as he stared down at her, not entirely sure what the appropriate reaction to her at that moment was, but soon realized it was _not_ to kiss her back. Instead, he offered a small smile when her cheeks flushed and her face fell, no doubt just registering what she had done. She quickly retracted her hands, which briefly covered her mouth, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"I'm a little too excited," she confessed, which made his grin grow. "Sorry… I… I'll see you when I get back."

He leaned down and kissed her delicately on the cheek, careful to not appear to press for anything more in her mortified state, "Yes, you will. Enjoy your time with your brother."

That seemed to make her remember what she had to look forward to, and she brightened up as she smiled.

"Okay, I'm off," Max said after another moment or so of simply staring at one another. "Don't wreck my car."

"Don't… catch some tropical disease."

"Thanks," she droned, shooting him one last look as she shut the door. "Bye! Merry Christmas!"

"Yes… Same to you."

He stared at the closed door, feeling a strange mix of emotions, none of which he could try to decipher on his own. Instead, he merely locked the door and situated himself back in front of the television box. There was always the possibility that Loki could actually study more, possibly get ahead on some of the reading he had planned to do that night, but it was certainly easier to watch the television box.

By the time another episode of reality trash had passed, Loki's stomach was howling, and he figured it was time to sort things out. He popped into his room quickly to change into a more presentable shirt for the public, and then felt out Max's key in his pocket again. This would be the first time he had ever driven the vehicle without Max present, but he assumed it couldn't possibly be that difficult. After all, he had seen young adults around campus and in his classes that he assumed had mental defects, and even _they_ could manage to drive.

Just as he grabbed his money holder, he heard another knock at the door. Frowning, he tossed his holder back onto his bed and hurried down the hall, smirking a little at the second knock; had Max forgotten to bring a key? Silly woman.

He unlocked the door, but as soon as he saw who waited on the other side, his smile fell and his gaze hardened. Thor. Stark. Banner. The Soldier.

"Hello, friend," Stark beamed from the helm of the group, Thor hulking over his shoulder. "Nice hair."

Enraged, Loki slammed the door with all the might his pathetic mortal body could muster, but Stark managed to shoulder it open. So, forgoing the option to simply block them from entering, Loki turned back sharply on his heel and made a beeline for Max's room. It was there that he found the metal bat she had shown him a few days after he moved in, bestowed upon her by her father, and he hadn't realized why it would ever be needed until now. He gripped the handle firmly, and then returned to the main area of the apartment where the entirety of the group had filed in.

Stark was the closest target, and with a grim expression, Loki marched directly for him and took a swing. He missed him by a hair, and Stark stumbled out of the way with a shout. The man then ducked behind Thor, and Loki took another swing, but the Asgardian managed to catch the bat and pry it from his hands. Weaponless, Loki merely launched himself forward, and Thor managed to tackle him backward as the rest of the ridiculous Avengers prattled on amongst themselves.

"We are not here to harm you, brother," Thor grunted, pushing him back so that he was pinned between the Asgardian's massive palm and the wall.

"Get _out_ of this house," Loki hissed as he struggled fruitlessly. "You are not welcome-"

"There's two ways we can do this," Stark began, and Loki glared as he watched the man fiddle with the tree decorations in the corner of the room. "First…" Thor shot Loki a warning look as he eased the pressure off his chest, only to push him back painfully when he lunged for Stark. "You can fight us, try to kill us, you know… do whatever it is you can do. We'll arrest you, take you back to New York, and you can stand trial for the crimes you've committed against humanity."

Thor frowned and observed the man over his shoulder, and Loki took a moment to take stock of how utterly ridiculous his false brother looked in mortal clothes, "That was never a part of this bargain, Stark."

"Second," the man continued, turning to face Loki completely, his hands clasped in front of him, "you can help us today, and we'll offer you a reward… a hefty reward. One that might involve getting you out of Nowheresville, Vermont…"

Loki scoffed, "So I can fly from one cage to another? I think I like this one better than one in your ridiculous tower."

"Please." It was the Solider who spoke now, stepping forward with a bundle in his hands, "I am more than happy to let you carry out whatever punishment you've been given-"

"But the safety of humanity is at risk," Thor interrupted, drawing Loki's gaze again. "Jane, Selvig… Everyone you care for in this realm faces disaster."

His eyes narrowed, "I care for _two_ people in this whole realm, and I can assure you that neither of them are Jane Foster or Eric Selvig."

"Two?" Thor repeated, his expression suddenly downtrodden, "That's all? In all these months?"

Loki glared at him; what did it matter to _him_ who he cared for?

"Well, in the interest of those two people, and yourself," the Soldier continued after a moment of tense silence, "I think you should look at this."

He managed to push Thor off him, but he assumed that the Asgardian had simply let him go. He no longer had the incredible urge to bash Stark's face against the counter, but it was still a tempting thought. Instead, he simply watched as the Soldier deposited the thick bundle of material on the kitchen island, and noticed that Banner had taken a seat on the other side. Curiosity snagged, Loki sauntered forward, and then stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the blade amidst the material.

"Where did you get that?" he demanded, his insides suddenly quite numb as he turned to the Soldier, "_Where_?!"

"Two men attacked me with it," the man explained. "What does it mean?"

"Were they wielding it themselves?" Loki asked, thoughts of Thor's sudden reappearance and Stark's snarky comments gone as he surveyed the knife from a safe distance. He sighed when the Soldier nodded, "Then it means this realm has been invaded."

He shot a look to the door; Max had only left an hour or so ago. If he could somehow find his way back to her family home, perhaps he could find a reason to delay her trip. He certainly did not want her venturing out into the wide world if they were making a move.

"Alright, let's move beyond the cryptic," Stark demanded. "What are we dealing with here?"

Loki pointed at the blade, "The glyphs are in Pagurish, which is the language of the Pagurolid… distant relatives of the Chitauri."

"Okay."

Loki's eyes narrowed at the man, "And they like to wear the skin of their hosts…"

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: (the freakin' longest one ever, apparently)  
**

**DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN.**

**So the cat is out of the bag – our first introductions to the new Big Bad! I think people will expect crash, boom, bang action to follow, but I'm going to warn you now that we still have A LOT more to go of the story, so keep that in mind. Like I said before – the background plot is there, but Max and Loki's relationship and Loki's path to redemption are more of the focus of **_**this**_** fic. I make no promises about the sequel. **

**Now, I watched the lovely reviews come in for the last chapter, and I was really worried about this one. I like it when I can keep people guessing and do something unexpected, but I genuinely felt bad that everyone was so excited about Max potentially finding out Loki's secret. Sorry! But… Max got **_**her**_** surprise with Nolan (yeay Tub-Tub!) and Loki got **_**his**_** surprise with the Avengers. So. I wasn't lying. **

**PLEASE STILL LOVE ME. **

**Also, I don't quite know how military schedules work. I read somewhere that American soldiers stationed in Iraq are done so on rotations, and that's sort of what I thought for Nolan… I dunno. I'm not American, nor from a military family, so I don't quite know how it works. I just sort of squinted at it until it made sense. **

**Pagurolid sounds kind of ridiculous, but it's a combination of ****Pompilidae and ****Paguroidea, which are the family and superfamily names for the spider-wasp and the hermit crab. Should give you a bit of an idea of what I have in mind for things… **

**The title of the chapter is from the song _Cups_, sung most recently in _Pitch Perfect_. I think it says basically all I'd want to say about Max and Loki in regards to separation.  
**

**I'm pretty excited for the next chapter. Fuck. You all know I'm excited about everything this story has to bring. The next one will probs be a little on the shorter side again, dialogue heavy, but there will be something that happens that will have repercussions later on in the story for Loki and Max. BAM. **

**So stick around, my darlings! Much love to everyone for all the support. YOU'RE ALL MY HEROES OF THE INTERWEBS!**


	34. Ain't nobody got time for that

"What do you mean they like to wear skin?"

Loki's eyebrows shot up as he observed Banner from across the kitchen island, and then blinked back his incomprehension; surely he had been perfectly clear.

"Well," he started, his tone gentle and immensely condescending, "much in the same way an enormous green ape lives inside of _you_, the Pagurolid live inside the bodies of their hosts. They'll wear your skin like a coat-"

"In a much more literal sense, obviously," the Soldier interjected, and Loki shot him a marginally impressed look. Clearly the frozen soldier had more intellect than the beast. "Why are they here? How did they get here?"

"More importantly, how do we kill them?" Stark added. Loki frowned when he saw the man had actually started rummaging around in his cupboards, but seeing as he and Max had very limited amounts of food left, he wasn't about to find anything. So, instead of dealing with a snooping houseguest, Loki turned his attention to Thor, his eyes narrowed.

"You could easily find all of this information and _more_ on Asgard," he stated pointedly. "Although, it would require you to open a book…"

"Yes, yes, I'm the illiterate dolt in the family," Thor snapped, brushing off the silent insult with better humour than Loki had ever seen. "I haven't the time to return to Asgard. If they are already on the planet, then we must act."

"How long have they been here for?"

Loki turned back to the Soldier, eyebrows raised, "Why do you ask as though I am privy to such information?"

The Soldier frowned, "Well, I… You seem to know a lot about a lot."

He rolled his eyes, and then opted to take a seat atop the back of the couch. Arms folded across his chest, he surveyed the group with a glare. He could literally feel his fury bubbling up just beneath the surface, and yet there wasn't a single thing he could do about any of it. Thor wouldn't stand by and allow him to kill them, and seeing as he lacked all of his former ability, he wouldn't have been able to if he tried. He had no desire to play their game, but if he didn't, he may end up in a Midgardian cell for his recent deeds.

So, even though it pained him, he decided to answer whatever sort of question they might have; there was no harm in providing information that was common for those who knew how to look.

"I know not why they are here," Loki started, wrinkling his nose at the way Thor managed to influence his speech pattern. "Pagurolids are…" He trailed off, searching for the right word. "They are colonists. They once had a realm of their own, but they sought to expand over time. From what I understand, they send out scouts to varying planets in order to find a suitable habitat."

"So they're here to take our planet?"

"Most likely," Loki remarked, pleased that Banner had pushed beyond his earlier foolishness. "They are not war enthusiasts, nor do they see themselves as the universe's moral compass as the Chitauri do. They are… opportunists and scavengers."

"But why Earth?" Thor mused, a hand stroking his stubble-ridden chin, eyes unfocused as he stared at the Christmas tree, "It's such a small realm in comparison to the many worlds in this universe."

"A quick takeover?" the Soldier remarked. Loki watched his left hand fiddle with the fabric beneath the Pagurolid blade, the frustration obvious in his brow. "Otherwise I can't see why we earned the attention-"

"You are a stable realm," he sighed. The praise that followed left a strange aftertaste in his mouth. "You have ample green space for expansion, a population that has endured for thousands of years, technology, wealth… Earth is an appealing planet to try to take."

"Says the guy who knows best."

He turned his glare back to Stark, "That is not to say this realm is without faults. There are faults… _extensive_ faults."

"Oh?"

"And they generally consist of the people who dwell within it," Loki finished with a sneer. He forced himself to relax when Thor placed a hand on his shoulder, though he couldn't quite get his jaw to unclench.

The Soldier sighed, "So what is it that they want?"

"Weren't you listening?" Loki spat, throwing his hands up irritably. "I said they are _colonists_. They want your land, your space, your resources… They want to build a new life here!"

"And what about the people who already live here?" Banner inquired when the Soldier pressed his lips together tightly. Loki offered a nonchalant shrug.

"I suspect they will infiltrate positions of power," he mused, his words mere speculation more than anything else. "They inhabit your bodies because they cannot survive efficiently for long off of their home planet. They need skins to travel, and will shed it in favour or another."

"So-"

"Though I suspect they will leave a vast population of humans untouched," he continued, more than happy to cut Stark off as he spoke. "They'll need servants, laborers, teachers, scientists… A majority ruled by a powerful minority. That is what you can anticipate."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," Stark droned as he continued to rummage through the kitchen cupboards.

Loki rolled his eyes once more, but then let out a sigh. There – he had given them all the basic information he knew about the Pagurolid race. He had met one once on his journeys through the many realms of the universe, and even then the creature was hiding in the form of another being. Even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to identify what a true Pagurolid looked like.

"Now," Loki started, breaking the silence as the rest of the apartment's occupants digested his clearly crucial information, "this has been a thrill, but…"

He trailed off at the sound of a knock at the front door, and Thor straightened up beside him.

"Were you expecting company, brother?"

His lip twitched at _that_ word, but he tried to ignore it; the faster he cooperated, the faster they would get what they wanted, and the faster they would leave him alone.

"I am not," he said stiffly. He then shot a look to the rest of the group, "There wouldn't happen to be any other Avengers waiting in the car?"

Their stoic silence was confirmation enough, and Loki took a deep breath when the bell tolled.

As he approached the door, he heard rustling behind him, but a glance over his shoulder merely showed his companions getting to their feet; he half-expected them to hide. For some odd reason, he thought he might find one of two sorts of beings on the other side of the door: a Pagurolid, armed in the body of another with its ridiculous sense of entitlement, or some S.H.I.E.L.D. agent come to take him away now that he had served his purpose. His patience grew thin when there was a second knock, and he finally unlocked the door noisily and ripped it open, prepared for whoever might await him on the other side.

"Hi… Not a bad time, is it?"

His eyes narrowed at Ben, who stood there bundled up like a dolt in umpteen layers of winter clothing. However, his scraggly brown hair was still visible, and his thin nose was bright red from the cold. Loki bit the inside of his cheek, hard, to keep from snapping at the man; his initial reaction to Ben's presence was never a particularly pleasant one. However, he had no desire to be quietly chastised by Thor for losing his temper on some innocent human.

"What do you want?" he demanded stiffly, opening the door a little more so that he could lean against the frame.

"I… Has Max left?" the man inquired. Loki huffed at his attempted subtlety as he tried to peer over his shoulder, perhaps hoping Max might hear him and come to his rescue.

"Yes."

"Oh." Ben scratched at the back of his neck, and then cleared his throat, "Okay, well, she said I could borrow one of her textbooks for the break to work on my thesis-"

"She's very giving, isn't she?"

The man paused, which made Loki smirk, and then nodded, "Yeah… Do you mind if I just go get it? I'm sure it's just on her desk."

Loki glanced back over his shoulder, and cleared his throat pointedly as Stark dug through a basket of take-out menus next to the fridge box. The man stepped back, hands up, and then sauntered across the kitchen to fiddle with some of the recently washed dishes; the man was insufferable.

"I'll get it," Loki said as he turned back to face Ben. "What is the title?"

"Theoretical Approaches to Religious Art," the man told him. He tried to get another word in, but Loki closed the door just enough as to not slam it, but still block him out.

"Classmate?" Stark asked as Loki marched across the apartment. "You guys do homework together and everything?"

Thor snatched the bat out of the way before Loki could get at it, and he let out a growl as he continued on down to Max's room. In his frustration, he stared at her desk for a whole two minutes without seeing the infernal book anywhere. Eventually, he located it beneath a stack of papers, and made a note to have a chat with Max about tidiness in the workspace.

With that, he stalked out of her bedroom and down the hall, only to freeze when he saw Ben huddled just inside the door. Much to his surprise, the ridiculous Avengers hadn't the intellect to hide from a common observer. Instead, an incredibly awkward silence hung in the air as he stormed back and shoved the book into Ben's hands.

"Thanks-"

"Out," he ordered, a hand on the man's arm as he all but shoved him out the door.

"I'll see on the twenty-eighth then?"

Loki's eyebrows shot up in acknowledgement, and he shut the door sharply before the man could get another word in.

"A little discretion would have been appreciated," he snarled back at the group, and Banner smirked.

"Should I have ducked behind the counter?"

The Soldier spoke next, cutting off Stark mid-quip, "Don't bait him. Stay on task."

"I had thought we were finished with our task," Loki droned as he returned to his spot against the back of the couch.

At that point, Stark had found a packet of chips in one of the cupboards and was crunching away noisily. He may have appeared nonchalant, but Loki wasn't ignorant to the intensity of the man's stare. It seemed Stark liked to let people assume he hadn't a care, but under his guise of disregard the man in the iron suit never missed a beat.

"Couple more concerns, and then I think we can cut you loose," the Soldier remarked, arms folded across his chest. "Why can't we touch the knife?"

Loki sighed noisily and shot Thor a bit of a look.

"I would assume because it's been cursed," he remarked, leaning forward a tad to get a better look at the blade. "Many creatures can tailor weapons so that they can only be used by themselves or their race… I suspect _that_ is cursed to keep you from using it on them."

"Like we're all itching to crawl into somebody's chest cavity," Stark muttered, extending a hand for Banner to partake in a chip or two. "Okay, so we can't use the knife to kill them… What does the trick?"

"Surely _you_ can come up with something clever," Loki snapped, eyes flickering in Thor's direction. "I'm sure decapitation will work."

"The usual then?"

He shot Stark a sneer, "Naturally. They're only in human flesh… Their inner frames may be a touch more durable, but I have my doubts. Anything that could kill a normal human-"

"Like you?"

"Could kill them," he finished tersely, which made the Soldier sigh.

"How long do you think they may have been here for?" Thor inquired; his voice dropped in volume to give the appearance of addressing Loki alone. "How quickly do they spread?"

"I am _not_ the all-knowing on the Pagurolid race," he hissed, his hands clenched as he surveyed the Asgardian. "There are some questions you will need to find the answers to on your own."

The corners of his lips quirked upward when he spied a familiar jaw clench on his former brother.

"Fine," the Soldier said quickly. "We'll start on some research of our own… but is there any way to tell them apart from the creatures they live inside?"

"I suppose…" Loki frowned, interested in that sort of knowledge himself. "I suppose they would have faulty mannerisms. They would need to learn human customs in order to carry on their façade. From what I experienced, their orifices don't quite match up."

"Beg your pardon?"

"An eye may appear to droop, or a nostril seems deflated," he clarified. As he spoke, his mind ran through all the people he had recently encountered, and was pleased to note that none of them seemed to carry the specified characteristics. "The skin will fit better with time, but… but I think you will be able to distinguish a Pagurolid who has recently moved in."

"Right," Stark said the moment Loki finished speaking, clapping his hands together as he tossed the empty chip bag onto the counter. "Information stored." He tapped his temple. "Now, our reward consists of you getting out of this… village and moving somewhere with a stable internet connection."

The Soldier offered him a sincere nod. "We'll need all the help we can get on this thing."

"No."

He did not need time to consider the offer, nor did he hesitate for a moment to reject it; he was not leaving Masonville before he had all of his powers intact.

"Consider it," Thor urged, standing in front of him so that they could observe one another directly. "I can help you with father's punishment-"

"I think that defeats the purpose of it if you help," Loki whispered, his tone as condescending and petty as he could muster. "If I stay anywhere with any of these men for more than an hour at a time, I will _never_ appreciate humanity."

"Brother, please," the Asgardian continued. "If what you say is true, the situation could soon be desperate… Any expertise you can give us would surely make Father see you've changed."

Loki pursed his lips, considering his options, and then offered up a wry smile, "I will help, but I have a few conditions that must be met…"

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Short, I know, but that's what I expected. I think I did a bit better on the dialogue this time around. I had a good time showing ol' Steve Rogers being the actual leader of the group and the voice of calm. Not as much Stark-Banner bromance as I would have liked, but this isn't the last we'll see of them. **

**Not too too much to say here. I hope it didn't necessarily sound like a huge info dump about the invading aliens… Loki doesn't know everything, so I tried to play that up too. I had initially wanted him to be much more hesitant/resistant to helping them, but then I figured he'd be sort of like, "Well, fuck it, I'm already a human. My day can't get any worse." … Little bit downtrodden, our boy. **

**Also Ben. Ben. **

**I had a scene planned for Max's vacation, but I dislike not having her and Loki together in a chapter. So she'll be back for the next chapter in Masonville, but the question is – will Loki?**

**Also the title is this because it makes me giggle. And that's that.  
**

**LOVE YOU ALL FOR YOUR REVIEWS AND SUPPORT! I appreciate every single message or alert or review I get, and store them in my inbox like a magpie. Shiny and lovely, you lot. **


	35. Black and Shiny and Expensive

"Ugh," Max groaned as she surveyed her snow-ridden parking lot from the backseat of her dad's car. "It needs to stop snowing already."

Seriously. Their flight out of Burlington was delayed because of poor weather, and they had to sit at the airport in Cancun for an extra three hours because stormy American weather kept their plane from arriving on time. Once she was back in Burlington, the weather took a sour turn, and after seeing Nolan off for his flight back overseas, she and her parents braved the elements on the ridiculously long, slow ride back to Masonville. It wasn't unbearable, and they had certainly experienced worse in the earlier part of December, but after spending almost ten days in a sunny paradise, it was difficult to come back.

"Don't they clear the lot for you?" her dad complained as he eased the old family Ford into the parking lot. Max saw him grit his teeth in the mirror when the left side of the car scraped noisily over something. "This is ridiculous."

"Normally they do," she admitted with a nod, wrinkling her nose as she surveyed the snow drifts around the car, "but they get a little slack during the winter holidays."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't pay for your parking space during the _winter holidays_ if you can't get to your bloody car," he grumbled, and Max held back her grin when she heard her mom sigh. It had been a long, exhausting trip back, and tensions were running a little higher than necessary between her parents. What they really needed was some sleep, and Max didn't want to keep them for much longer.

"I'll just jump out here, guys," she insisted, unbuckling her seatbelt to emphasize the point. Her excessively large bags were piled up on the seat beside her, and she could see a bit of a path where other people had walked as a means to get to the building itself. "It's fine."

"Here, let me carry your bags," her dad offered, but she was quick to place both hands on his shoulders.

"No," Max laughed, sidling up to kiss his cheek. "You need to go home and go to bed. It's almost eight-thirty-"

"Yeah, time for bed," her mom muttered. Max bit her lower lip, and then squished her way through the two front seats to give her thinning mom a proper hug, squeezing her just tight enough to make her chuckle. "Max-"

"Keep me in the loop, okay?" Her tone meant business, and she raised her eyebrows until her mom nodded.

"It's _fine_, but I'll call you after the appointments," she promised, and Max planted a firm kiss on her cheek.

"Are you sure you don't want me to grab something?" her dad asked again as she tried to slip a bag strap up to each shoulder. "It'll take two minutes to pop you inside."

"Go home," Max ordered. She managed to open the car door with her foot, knowing its intricacies since childhood, and then staggered out with bags in tow. They were definitely a lot heavier now than they had been when she left; her credit cards wept softly in her purse. "I love you!"

And with that, she slammed the door shut before they could try to help further. She adored her parents, but as she predicted, ten straight days with them had been incredibly taxing. It was awesome having Nolan around to counteract some of the usual frustrations she felt when she was back home with the parents, but now that he was on a plane somewhere over the Atlantic, Max got the full brunt of everything again. So, while she was incredibly grateful for the trip, and obviously enamored with the idea of family holiday nostalgia, it was time to get back to her life.

So, she stood there in the parking lot, snow up to her knees and obnoxious bags hanging from her shoulders, and forced a smile as she watched her parents try to maneuver out of the parking lot. Even if she couldn't hear them, she could see her mom criticizing and her dad's hands flailing when something didn't work. It may have only taken a minute or so to actually get turned around and out of the lot, but that minute was the longest fucking minute of her life. Teeth chattering and shoulders shaking from their burden, Max gave one final wave at the sound of a familiar honk, and then turned back toward the building. She kept her head down to avoid the wind as she carried onward, not stopping until she was almost pressed up to her front door.

There didn't appear to be any fresh prints, which could mean that Loki either hadn't been out of the apartment since she left, or the storm was still quite fresh – both of which were pretty plausible.

She dropped both bags unceremoniously in the snow, unable to get at her keys in her coat pocket until she did so, and then barreled her way into the warm apartment. The light over the stove was on, which gave her a little guidance as she hauled her stuff inside, and she flicked on the rest of them with the switch near the door. A quick sweep over the living room and kitchen area showed that it was slightly messier than she had left it, but otherwise things looked pretty much the same.

"Loki?"

She waited for an answer, her stomach a mesh of fluttering knots, and then leaned back against the front door when she heard no reply. The thought of him being out somewhere at this time of night made her frown, but she could use the couple of minutes of solitude to collect her thoughts.

It was no surprise to anyone, least of all Max, that she had missed her roommate over the break. After she filled Nolan in on just about everything that had happened between them, a few details excluded, she realized it had been absolutely necessary that they end things. Their relationship was more serious for Max than it was for Loki, and in the end, she would have been hurt. However, that did nothing to suppress her feelings for him. In fact, she decided the absence truly did make the heart grow fonder; she missed seeing him for breakfast and curling up next to him to watch terrible reality TV before the news came on.

All in all, she simply missed him. There had been plenty of guys in Cancun to make a play at her, some even bold enough to do it in front of her dad, but none of them had stirred an ounce of feeling when she remembered Loki sitting around at home. Max missed the way he made her feel; like she was actually a gorgeous woman and not the hot mess she usually assumed she was. Loki made her feel important, wanted, and that was what she was most eager to get back to in Masonville. She had accepted the fact that they couldn't be together without getting her heart broken, but that didn't mean she wanted to be away from him.

So she couldn't date him – fine. Max planned to get a mastery on her feelings before the new semester started, and perhaps they could continue to exist in their grey zone of friendship and flirtation until one of them broke.

One could dream, right?

She stayed there for a few minutes, resting against the door as she surveyed her petite apartment. It was actually suspiciously neat; try as he might, Loki wasn't really much help when it came to anything related to cleaning duties. He could wash dishes, yes, but Max was fairly sure he wasn't even aware that he needed to dust things every so often. However, everything looked much better than she anticipated.

It was difficult to get herself up and moving again, as she had been on the go since roughly four that morning, but somehow she managed to haul her bags down the hallway. After she tossed them into her bedroom, she turned back, hands on her hips, and saw that Loki's door was shut. Well, no, not shut, but just about. She could see a light shining through the crack, and when she heard no response to her soft knock, she decided to just push in.

"Hey," she started, and then came to an abrupt halt in his doorway, eyes widening as she studied what appeared to be a completely different room. Her sudden appearance seemed to startle her roommate, who was hunched over at his desk with a pair of ridiculously expensive headphones over his ears, eyes squinting at one of the largest desktop monitors she had ever seen in a student household.

"Oh, you're back," Loki remarked with an infectious smile. "I didn't even hear you come in."

"Well, videos of people accidentally hurting themselves _are_ pretty distracting," Max commented, her stomach knotting happily as she nodded toward the monitor's Youtube page. She shouldn't be this excited to see him, as it hadn't even been two weeks, but she could feel herself trembling elatedly to be around him again.

Shake it off, woman. She opted to examine all the new gadgets around his room instead of going directly for him when he turned to face her in a stupid ergonomic chair.

"How was-"

"Where the fuck did you get all this stuff?" she asked, running her fingers over what appeared to be a plethora of new books, atop which there was a ridiculously thin laptop. Why did he need a desktop _and_ a laptop? She also spied a cell phone resting on his pillow. Literally everything in his room was black and expensive and shiny; she tried to rein in her jealousy. "You don't know anything about technology!"

"I thought it was time to finally catch up with the rest of the world," he chuckled. Her cheeks tinged in a way they hadn't for ten days when she caught him giving her a once over. "My… father sent me my bank information."

"Really?" She clapped her hands together brightly, but then downplayed her enthusiasm when he didn't share it. "That's fantastic… You guys are talking-"

"No, just the bank information," he remarked, and Max licked her lips as his gaze sought out hers. "I still don't want to discuss him."

"Whatever, it's a start," she trilled, waving it off as she went in for a hug. He was killing her buzz about being home, and she wasn't about to let that carry on. Instead, she bent down and wrapped her arms around his neck, a smile spreading across her lips when he returned the gesture with equal zest. She straightened up, however, when his hands trailed down her back and to her hips.

He smirked up at her, an arm resting on the back of his chair, head cocked to the side, "You seem darker."

"I tanned _so_ much," she told him, rolling up her sleeves for him to observe her fabulous tan. "Nolan and I were hungover most mornings, so we spent almost every afternoon napping on the beach. Dad was… kind of pissed we didn't want to do touristy things."

Max was babbling. She _knew_ she was babbling, but she couldn't bring herself to stop; she was excited to be home with him, just as excited as she had been to go on a holiday with Nolan. Besides, he was definitely entertaining her blathering, giving her arms an impressed look as she showed them off.

Before she could continue to prattle on with a story about Nolan face-planting in the sand after tripping over a tanning man in a thong, Loki stood and placed a hand on either side of her face. She stiffened when the tips of his fingers delicately touched her skin, his eyes holding her gaze boldly. Max swallowed thickly and spared a glance at his lips. However, instead of kissing her, Loki pressed against the sensitive skin around her eyes, and began tugging it this way and that.

"Guy, ow," she snapped and slapped his hands away, slightly irritated that he spoiled a potentially non-grey moment. She was accepting of them, those little moments that took her and Loki beyond the grey, but she figured she shouldn't be the one to initiate them all the time. "I'm tanned everywhere else, but my face is sunburnt as fuck."

"Right… Sorry."

She frowned as he stepped around her, and then opted to take a seat on the edge of his bed. It was only then that she noticed he had been carrying some tension in his shoulders, which appeared to have dissipated.

"Well, out with it," he ordered after the silence became slightly uncomfortable. "Tell me all about your holiday."

"No, you first," she insisted as she rolled his chair across the room and plopped down on it, stretching her legs out on his bed as she slouched down. "This chair is kind of ridiculous."

"The lady at the store fit it precisely to my back," he told her, an excited glint in his eye as he nodded at it. "Don't readjust the setting just because you have terrible posture."

"Hey!" Max smacked his leg playfully, which made him chuckle. She went in for another hit, but he managed to snatch her wrist and drag her and the stupid chair closer. The laughter had stopped, but his charming smirk lingered as her eyes narrowed, and she watched him scoop her legs up and move them down the bed to join the rest of her body.

"Well," he started, eyebrows up as he scooted back to rest against the wall. Both of their knees were bent, and Max even let him slide a leg down between both of hers to rest on the edge of the chair. It was intimacy without being intimate, and she had missed it. "Tell me everything."

"No, you first," she repeated, and then shot him a look when he started to twist the chair from side to side with his foot. "You probably have less to tell me than I do you."

"Oh, is that so?" He scoffed noisily. "My life _did_ carry on while you were away, Max."

She quirked an eyebrow, "So you're telling me that you did more here in Masonville than I did in Cancun?"

"I'll have you know that I did a _number_ of things," he replied snootily, but his façade crumbled when she tried to hold back her smile. "Alright, I didn't do anything… I watched an obscene amount of television, did some shopping… obviously, and counted down the seconds until you returned."

"Shut up," she laughed, pinching the underside of his calf, which was currently nestled between her thighs. A thought suddenly struck her, and she figured she would try to sort it out before she forgot. "Did you see Ben while I was gone?"

He pursed his lips, and then offered a nonchalant shrug. "He stopped by for a book, yes."

"Were you a dick to him?"

"I was perfectly pleasant."

"Right, so that's why he's been texting me about you?" she mused, nodding her head a few times. She hadn't had her phone with her while she was away, but once she turned it back on, she had received almost five texts from Ben insisting that they discuss Loki. It was pretty out of the blue, but she assumed it stemmed from some altercation over the break that she wasn't aware of yet.

Loki sighed irritably as he rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he muttered. "I suppose I could have treated him a little more kindly. Although I do try considerably, Max, for your sake…"

"Well, maybe you guys can just steer clear of each other for a bit," she suggested, and then sighed a little when he gave her a stiff nod in return. "He's not that bad."

"I don't quite know what it is, but I find him a little insufferable."

She tried to hold back her grin again; Loki saw Ben as competition. She knew he would never admit it outright, but she was fairly sure Loki disliked the guy who made his crush on Max as obvious as Ben had in the recent months. Naturally, she had no desire to encourage those sorts of feelings, nor did she ever want two guys competing over her. However, it made her a little proud to know that a guy who looked like Loki could be jealous over someone like Ben.

"Change of topic," she said brightly, straightening up a little when she felt the tips of his socked toes poking at her. "Are you _sure_ you want to hear everything?"

"Why not?" Loki mused, resting an arm atop his knee. "I have nothing else to do tonight."

Her jaw dropped a little, and she batted the leg between hers, "If that's the only reason you want to hear my stories, I'll keep them to myself."

"Woman," he groaned, rolling his eyes when she laughed. "Out with it!"

"Okay, well," she started, pulling the chair even closer to the bed, using Loki's leg as an anchor. "So, Cancun is probably the prettiest place I have ever been in my life… It was so nice to get out of here and just… sit on the beach and swim and be warm all the time."

"I can imagine."

"My parents made us do touristy stuff for the first few days," Max continued, unable to hold his gaze completely throughout her story – he had yet to look away. "We saw ruins and went to this bird sanctuary, and then took a boat tour… Christmas was at the hotel. They did this huge joint dinner where you just ate at a bunch of long tables, and it was really festive. Nolan wore the _ugliest_ Christmas sweater I have ever seen, and somehow he _still_ managed to pick up a girl at the bar." She snorted at the memory. "After that, we just lounged around… beach days, tried out the nightlife… frequently."

Loki smirked, "Any gentleman suitors catch your fancy?"

"No," she snapped, giving his leg a poke for good measure. "I mean, there were _a lot_ of drunk Irish guys… Must have been a convention in town, but I resisted."

"And why is that?"

She knew what he was getting at, but she tried valiantly not to blush under his stare. Instead, she looked down her nose at him and shrugged. "Because I'm a classy lady."

"That you are."

She grinned, and then launched into another story at the trigger, "Oh, but there was this one guy who could not take no for an answer… Nolan and I were walking back from this bar sometime in the morning, and this guy started to follow us, and he kept asking us things about stuff that had _nothing_ to do with anything. Clearly wasted off his face… I mean, speech slurring, eyes all over the place, couldn't walk right…" Loki straightened up. "Eventually Nolan had to like… physically drag him off to the bouncers at a bar we were passing, and I guess they called the cops."

"And Nolan," Loki interrupted, "was fine after? You didn't notice anything… off about him, did you?"

"No, no, he was fine," she admonished. "I mean, the guy spat on him a bit while he was slurring, but I think he can handle himself. I mean, he's in Iraq most of the year… I think he can handle a drunk asshole in Mexico."

"Of course," he muttered. "What else?"

She pursed her lips, trying to think if anything else significant happened while she was away. In all honesty, it hadn't been that crazy a trip. _Yes, _she could tell Loki about all the ridiculous drunken adventures she got up to with her brother, but most of those memories were a little fuzzy.

"Oh, I bought you something," she said suddenly, pushing the chair away from the bed and leaping out of it. She returned a few moments later after some rummaging around in her bag, and then crawled onto the bed beside him. Hands behind her back, she sat up on her knees beside him, and then shoved a rather obnoxious red hair onto his head. "A hat!"

"I see-"

"Because you don't have a good one," she carried on with a grin, enjoying the way he looked slightly ridiculous with a bright red beanie on his head. "And…" Max then presented her second gift: a rather large shot glass. "For our next drinking night, you now have your own commemorative shot glass."

He held it up to view, and then in a soft voice inquired, "Does that… have my name on it?"

"Yeah," Max replied, infinitely pleased with the expression on his face. "We found this cute little stand where they paint anything you want, so Nolan had his shoes done, and I did my bag, and I figured I'd jazz up the glass a bit."

He stared at the glass, and Max started to get fidgety in the silence.

"Do you like it?" she asked, shifting to her side when he knees began protesting the way she had been sitting. He looked up at her quickly, his expression a little unreadable, and then nodded.

"Yes, but, Max," he stammered, "you don't ever need to buy me things. You do enough for me."

"Shut up and just say thanks," she laughed, opting to settle against the wall next to him, legs stretched out beside his. "I got Tiffany edible underwear, so you really shouldn't feel that special."

"Yes, I think the moment for feeling special is over."

He pulled the hat from his head and wrapped it around the shot glass, and then set his gifts between them for safekeeping. Max took a moment to examine his room; it was actually a lot cosier than she remembered it being. Mind you, it was full of electronics and fancy chairs now, but it felt homier than it had ever been when Josh lived in it.

"You know, we never hang out in your room," she remarked. "I mean, we don't in either of our rooms, but your room definitely got a lot cooler while I was away."

"Well, now, that's not true," he murmured, nudging her side and grinning at her. "We have spent _some_ time in here-"

"Hush," she snapped, which earned her a deep chuckle in return. "I meant non-sexually."

"Ah, well, you really must be more specific."

"We should do a movie night in here," she said suddenly, cutting off whatever else he had to say as she straightened up. "Yeah, I mean… Your monitor is bigger than our TV, and I have so many movies to catch up with online after exams and stuff… We could do food and-"

"Whatever you want," Loki told her quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. "We'll do whatever you want."

Max grinned as she scooted off the bed. It wasn't until she was actually on her feet that she felt the exhaustion in her legs, but she was too amped up to even think about calling it a night. Instead, she turned back to him, hands clasped together.

"Can we order sushi?"

His eyebrows knitted together slightly, and he licked his lips. "I… don't… think I have ever eaten that before, actually."

"My brother forced it down my throat a lot recently," she told him, and then rolled her eyes. "I know… Sushi in Mexico… What were we thinking? I think I have a spare menu. It looks gross, but it's actually kind of awesome."

"You've yet to lead me astray whenever you say that. Order for me."

She nodded, and then glanced down at her outfit.

"Actually," Max started, tugging at the hem of her shirt, "I think I'm going to shower and change first... I've been wearing this since four this morning."

"Delicious-"

"Fuck you," she snapped playfully. She gave his foot a smack before she strode out, her stomach growling happily at the thought of sushi, and the rest of her still quivering from being home.

* * *

Loki hadn't expected to be this thrilled to have Max home.

A part of him knew he would be pleased to see her, as he found it rather lonely to be stuck in the apartment without her, but he had not anticipated the happiness she brought with her. From her incessant babbling about Cancun right down to the lovely way her already red cheeks darkened when he did the slightest thing, Max was completely and utterly endearing tonight. Perhaps he felt thusly because _she_ made her feelings so plain, but he couldn't be sure. It was so obvious that she was excited to see him, and her gifts – as silly as they were – touched him. He hadn't quite realized why he had been in such a funk as of late, but with Max's voice and laughter echoing through the small apartment, he realized what he had missed.

He realized he had made the right choice to linger in Masonville.

Thor had been almost relentless in his quest to get Loki to return to New York City with him and rest of his irritating Avengers. However, Loki denied him up to the last moment; he would kill one of those men before he appreciated them, and then the All-father would never give him his powers back. Besides, beings that were clearly above the rest of their kind did not qualify – to Loki – as a part of humanity. Yes, he could possibly appreciate the Soldier's leadership abilities and the beast's great strength, but that did nothing for his feelings toward the greater majority of the human population. No, he could not and would not pack up his things and leave; being with Max had given him a brief, fleeting moment of power over the Thanksgiving holiday, and he was sure that being with her and her common friends would eventually lead to the restoration of his abilities.

However, Loki did share the Avengers' concern about the impending invasion. As far as they knew, there had only been one reported case of an open body found, and coupled with the Soldier's supposed attackers, that made three potential Pagurolids worldwide. It wasn't a looming threat, but rather one that could spring up at any time. While he may not care about the rest of the planet, he had no desire to regain his powers and then leave Max in the midst of a Pagurolid invasion. Therefore, while he vehemently refused to move in with Thor in the city he had tried to dominate many long months ago, Loki was willing to offer some sort of assistance.

Thor had said it himself; if the All-father saw Loki actually helping mankind, perhaps he would shorten his sentence.

His information, suggestions, and overall effort toward uncovering the Pagurolids required payment – naturally. After agreeing to help, Loki lined up his conditions, all of which only Stark was permitted to meet. He demanded that the man, who oozed wealth from his pores, pay for the remainder of the year's rent, repay his credit debt, and place a substantial amount of funds in his account to help him live comfortably. When Stark quickly agreed, as though money was nothing, Loki demanded the latest in technology; he wanted a laptop, a cellular calling device, and one of those screens that people could touch to access information.

Unfortunately, that brought about a very uncomfortable shopping trip to the local electronics store, during which Stark fussed over every individual device until he decided which was best. That was also followed by an uncomfortably cramped ride back to Loki's apartment, where Stark was then required to hook up all the devices. He had also purchased Loki an actual computer and a screen, which he insisted he could access from Stark Tower, and it would be their main source of communication.

Thus far, he had engaged in four video conferences with the rest of the 'team', though it was much easier to be a snarky cur when they were not standing three feet in front of him. He had no real information to offer them, but he listened to their updates – which were hardly anything worth listening to – and offered his advice for their plans. Currently, they planned to comb through any and all high ranking officials they could get access to – both through legal and illegal channels – in an attempt to see if any of them were compromised.

Meanwhile, Loki had an assignment of his own, given to him by a very tense Captain America. He was to use his fancy new computer to shift through dozens of online newspapers, searching for any indication of suspicious deaths or empty bodies. Loki could handle that; it was barely any workl, and he spent most of his spare time half-reading and half-exploring the Internet as a whole. It was such a vast place, and contained everything from images of naked men and women right down to video clips of wars in years gone by. Exploring it allowed him to understand the body he was in just a little bit more, and it was probably the one useful thing he had acquired since he arrived in the realm.

Well, that and Max's companionship. After she bestowed her unnecessary gifts upon him, Loki waited around for a half-hour while she freshened up. During the time, he wasn't particularly sure what to do with himself, and fidgeted with his new gadgets until she rejoined him in his room. From there, they ordered in sushi, selected a film – which was also on the internet – and Max ended up dragging in all of her pillows to decorate his bed with; apparently, one was not enough. While they waited for food, he simply basked in her incessant chatter. On any other day, it would have driven him to madness, but seeing as she had been woefully absent for nearly ten days, Loki decided he would enjoy it instead.

Besides, judging by the way she had to struggle to keep her eyes open, he knew she wouldn't last much longer. Even as an Asgardian, Loki had always thought travel to be a tedious process.

Now, he was skeptical of her new food at first, but when she finally persuaded him to try the rice rolls, she proved herself to him once again. There wasn't much food – roughly six pieces each – and yet on his fourth Loki started to feel satiated. He hadn't paid much attention to the film blaring from his monitor, as Max would randomly start up a new conversation that was entirely irrelevant to anything they were watching, so focusing on the plot or character development hadn't really seemed like an option.

"My mom has cancer."

It had come up out of nowhere, during a rather gory scene on the screen, and Loki was slightly taken aback. He didn't particularly know what cancer entailed, but from his biology lessons he knew it was a disease, and the television box commercials indicated it was a problem. At the time, he had cast her sidelong glance to gauge her mood; she bit into a spring roll and chewed, her face somewhat expressionless.

"I'm sorry." He wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to say in a situation like that.

"They caught it early enough, apparently," she had continued, eyes still on the screen. "So, she's okay, but nobody told me. Apparently, they didn't want to distract me from my exams and stuff."

"Ah."

"It would have been nice to know."

He had nodded, and then placed a hand on her knee. It was only then that she had looked at him, a slight frown on her lips.

"I wanted to tell someone, but not someone who will ask me about it all the time," she had said. "Don't tell anyone. She's fine."

He gave another nod, and from there they had resumed watching the film. When she spoke again shortly after, the lightness had returned to her voice, and Loki assumed the news was simply something she had wanted to get off her chest. He could understand that, but he couldn't quite empathize. So, he decided to simply ignore it and pretend the moment hadn't happened, which was surprisingly easy to do. Halfway through the film, she was laughing again as she had when she first arrived, and Loki had finished his sushi.

"Max?"

She turned her head to the side, a grin on her lips. "Hmm?"

"It makes me happy that you're back."

He was fairly sure every little thing in his body language could have indicated that without him saying a word, but the longer they sat there, their legs slightly touching, the more he felt as though she needed to know.

"I know," she remarked cheekily.

He leaned forward a little, slowly growing tired of their careful flirtation, and then stopped when she turned her head away to pick up her last piece of sushi. He mustered up his most unimpressed expression when she held what appeared to be the largest roll in the pack, complete with some shrimp tail sticking out of it. Max raised her eyebrows, a silent challenge, and Loki released a sigh through his nostrils as he opened his mouth. She then shoved the piece in, giggling as he struggled to close his lips around it.

"You're impossible." He tried to get the words out, but his mouth was impossibly full, and Max merely laughed at him instead. She then grabbed one of the nearby pillows and set it on his lap. Shortly after, she settled down, her head atop it, and her hands nestled beneath his legs.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**So – Loki's all sugar and spice and everything nice, but I've just planned a chapter in which he gets to be his old bad self. I'm pretty excited for it. It won't be for aaages down the line, but I kind of just wanted you to know that he's still in there. **

**I think Max and Loki are at their friendship breaking point – again. In my head, they sort of just couldn't keep their hands off each other. It was all careful touches, yeah, but I think it was fairly obvious that the chemistry hadn't gone anywhere. **

**I know the cancer thing may have been a bit random, but I don't throw details like that in there for nothing. It's applicable to the sequel of this story, and then to the following story after that. Max's relationship with both of her parents is different, and the feelings there are an overarching theme in her character development. **

**I'm not all that sure if people wanted to see stuff from the winter holiday. In my head, I didn't necessarily have a storyline for it – all I had were little scenes here and there about stuff that might have happened. I figured I could do a little telling instead of showing this time around, mostly for the sake of moving us right along with the plot. Acceptable?**

**I LOVE YOU ALL. YOUR FEEDBACK (especially lately, for some reason) HAS BEEN SO SUPPORTIVE AND DETAILED AND WONDERFUL. YOU'RE AMAZING. **


	36. Mouse Trap

Max stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, displeased that at twenty-six she could still find the occasional pimple (or three), and then hastily applied some cover-up to the irritating spot. She had about fifteen minutes to go before she and Loki were supposed to swing by Ben's to pick up whoever needed a ride to Burford, and she still needed to get dressed.

Apparently, the flight took more than a little out of her, and after devouring her sushi in record time last night, she had settled down onto Loki to finish the movie, only to awake several hours later alone in his bed. At that point, she spied her roommate hunched over in front of his desktop monitor, scrolling through something or another, and when she asked what he was doing, he told her to go back to sleep. Apparently, she didn't need to be told twice, and she woke up at almost ten that morning – the plan was to be on the road by eleven. Groggy, slightly headachey, and feeling gross despite showering the previous night, Max stumbled out of Loki's bed and took a quick trip to the bathroom.

With her head cleared and face washed, she found her roommate passed out at his desk, sprawled back on that stupid chair, slack-jawed and snoring softly. It almost seemed cruel to wake him, but she knew he would need something in his system before they picked up the rest of her friends. He was pleasant enough when she roused him, but he complained about not getting enough sleep; while she was gone, it seemed as though his sleep schedule had done a one-eighty, and he was up for most of the night, asleep for most of the day. She promised him he could sleep in the car – even though she knew none of her friends would allow for that – and told him she planned to throw a bagel in the toaster for him. The promise of food seemed to get him up, and while Loki showered, Max threw together a quick breakfast while darting back to her room to pack a bag.

Naturally, that meant the bagels burned when she had the toaster on too high a setting, and after Loki had finished in the bathroom, he opted to make breakfast while she finished packing. She hadn't meant to be such a mess, but she still hadn't unpacked from Cancun, and all of her good party clothes were buried in a messy ball at the bottom of her huge bags. So, as she threw unfolded pieces of clothing into her Burford bag, she recalled absently thanking Loki when he left a toasted, buttered bagel on her desk, and then sometime later hearing him chuckle at something in front of the TV.

When she realized she only had fifteen minutes before she needed to be out the door, Max had just stuffed whatever she thought necessary into the bag, threw in a handful of underwear, and then hurried to the bathroom to grab her toiletries. With that packed, she moved onto her face, which seemed to be displeased with the immediate shift away from warm weather.

Glaring, she dabbed some liquid foundation onto the spot, but then when she took a step back to examine the overall effect, Max realized the make-up highlighted the blemish even more. Lips pursed, she tossed the bottle of foundation into her small white make-up bag, and then ripped off a piece of toilet paper to tackle the mess she had made. It was then she saw it: fuzzy, round, small, hairless tail.

As much as she _hated_ being _that_ girl, Max couldn't help herself – she emitted the shrillest, most unnecessarily loud shriek she could muster at the sight of the mouse (or baby rat, who the fuck knows?) and then leapt onto the toilet. She screamed again when it made a dash across the tiled floor and stopped on her bathmat. Moments later, Loki came barrelling into the bathroom, eyes wide and alert.

"What?" he demanded. "What's wrong?"

"Get it! Get it! Get it!" she ordered shrilly, pointing at the little intruder as it bolted out the open door. "Don't let it get in my room!"

He looked bewildered as he turned his gaze to the ground, seeming somewhat unsure of what he was looking for, and her eyes narrowed when she saw him relax.

"Are you _serious_?" he snapped, shaking his head as he looked up at her on the toilet – the first time she was taller than him in the history of their friendship. "It's a rodent-"

"_Get_ it!" Max repeated, pushing at him as she spied the fucking thing hopping down the hallway.

Loki groaned noisily. "I thought it was something… a little more… serious-"

"What?" she hissed, grasping the fabric of his shirt frantically. "Did you think something crawled up out of the drain to get me? Bloody Mary was lurking in the mirror? This isn't an episode of _Supernatural_, Loki! _Get it!_"

"Alright, alright," he said, his hands up in a flawed attempt to calm her. "I think you can get off the toilet now-"

"Stop stalling!"

He disappeared down the hallway chuckling, which did nothing to help her panic. Max peered around the door, arms folded across her chest, and remained perched on the toilet until he had thoroughly investigated the remainder of the apartment. When he reappeared back in the hall, he offered her a half-hearted shrug when her eyebrows shot up, demanding results.

"I think it's gone."

"They don't _go_ anywhere," Max hissed as she daintily stepped off the toilet, eyes wide as she joined him in the hall. "They _fester_ and make _babies_ and eat your clothes!" She stopped in front of him with a huff, and then felt her cheeks darken as he smirked down at her. "_What_?"

"Nothing, nothing," he remarked quickly, leaning down to plant a kiss on her cheek, its effects more calming than she had anticipated. "I just wasn't aware you had a fear of small rodents-"

"I think my obvious dislike for most things with four legs should have tipped you off," she grumbled sourly. She stepped to the side and poked her head around her doorframe, her eyes doing a sweep of her bedroom for signs of rodent infestation.

"Well, crisis temporarily averted, I suppose," he mused. "Though aren't we running late?"

"Ugh, fuck," Max groaned, glaring at the numbers of her digital clock. "I don't want to leave with that thing running around…"

"Give me your bag," Loki ordered. "I'll at least get everything settled in the car while you debate our next move."

"I think you should take this a little more seriously," she stated as she reached into her room and snatched up her bag by its thick black strap. "Your shit is in danger too. All those expensive computer cords could be gone by the time we get back."

He shot her a look as she shoved her bag into his awaiting hands, and then sighed. "Well, then… I'll buy new ones. I'm really not concerned about _one_ rodent."

"Well, you should be."

"You're insane."

"_You're_ insane."

He readjusted the bag so that it hung off his shoulder, and then arched an eyebrow at her. "Is this everything? You don't have six more bags waiting in there, do you?"

Her cheeks tinged pink again, and she darted back to the bathroom to grab her toiletries bag. She then opened the zipper noisily and stuffed it inside her already bulging bag, and then stood in front of him, hands on her hips.

"I just want options."

Loki rolled his eyes dramatically, and then nodded back to her room. "Get dressed."

"_You_ get dressed!"

"You're incredibly childish when you're nervous," he told her as he sauntered toward the front door. "It's both annoying and endearing."

"Yeah?" she retorted, some of the tension easing out of her limbs. "Well, get ready for four hours of my neurosis with heavy doses of Tiffany's singing!"

She watched him pause at the front door, a hand on the knob, and then cocked her head to the side when he turned back to face her.

"Is it too late to stay home?"

Max snorted, and then pointed at the front door in response, holding her arm up until he disappeared into the white outdoors. Once she heard the door shut, she took a few tentative steps into her room, eyes peeled for any signs of rodent activity, and then hastily shed her pajamas. She scrambled around, heart racing at the thought of the mouse being under a random pile, and soon shimmied her way into a pair of jeans and a purple sweater. Anytime she was forced to take her eyes off the floor felt like torture, and as soon as she finished dressing, she gathered up her most important items and stuffed them into a wooden chest under her desk.

Yes, she was aware that mice, like racoons, can worm their way into anything. However, she hoped that with so many tasty wires in Loki's room, the stupid thing might be distracted enough to leave her shit alone.

She heard Loki return a few minutes later, grumbling about the weather and stomping around in what appeared to be new winter boots, and Max did a quick sweep of her room and the bathroom to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything.

"Bag's in the car?"

Loki held up his small backpack, no doubt filled with two changes of clothes and his laptop, and then gestured for her to get a move on. He hadn't done much sleeping the night before, so Max assumed he may be a little testier than usual, which did not bode well for Ben's future.

"Cool, okay," she rambled, running her hand through her hair and sighing. "Whatever we forgot we can just… buy there."

"Max," he said pointedly. "We are traveling four hours away… to a town in the _same_ state… for five days. I'm sure we can manage."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, waving him off as he stalked by. The clock over the stove indicated they were already ten minutes late to grab the others, and she figured it was time to just cut her losses and get in the car. Hopefully, their rodent friend would behave himself, and there would be no need to bring in an exterminator when they returned to handle an infestation. "I just like being overly prepared when I travel."

"This is not travel," Loki remarked. "This is a drive up the road, if anything."

"Alright, Saucy McSaucerson," Max laughed as she tugged on her boots. "Giving me a bit too much attitude this morning..."

"You yelled at me about a rodent-"

"Well, I think it's a serious issue."

He tossed her coat to her, and Max stuck her tongue out as he darted for the door. He may have been mildly annoyed with her, but she saw the grin on his lips as he passed. A sigh slipped out as she gave the apartment a quick onceover; it really felt as though she hadn't been home in months, not weeks, and she almost wished she had another day to relax before they shipped out to Burford.

After she locked up the front door, she followed Loki's enormous tracks across the snowy parking lot to her trusty car. He hadn't said if he had taken it anywhere over the break, but from the outside it appeared to be in good shape. Her roommate was depositing his bag into the trunk as she approached, and she snatched the keys from him in passing. Her evidence that he had driven the car, however, came the moment she sat in the front seat, which was pushed so far back she might as well have been sitting in the _back_seat.

"What were you doing, sleeping in here?" she grumbled as she readjusted the seat to her measurements. She had long legs, but fuck – Loki had the seat so far back he could have been sitting in another car behind them.

"I wanted to be comfortable," he argued, going straight for the heat as the car hummed to life. "I couldn't quite figure out how to get it back up once I had made the adjustments."

"Shockingly, it's the same lever that adjusted it the first time."

She caught Loki's unimpressed look out of the corner of her eye, and she ignored him in order to figure out how to get the car out of the snow-filled parking lot. Somehow, she managed to get the vehicle turned around, and they were soon edging smoothly out onto the main road. Max went to play with the radio, and Loki caught her by the wrist.

"You get the change the station _once_ every hour," he ordered. "None of your usual fiddling nonsense, understand?"

"I'm sorry," she scoffed, eyebrows shooting up as she tugged her hand away. "I wasn't aware my car deferred to you because you had a key for a week and a half."

"Once every hour."

"Half hour."

He undid his jacket with a huff, and then shook his head. "Fine."

Smirking, Max passed through the stations in an effort to find one that would play enough music to keep her interested for the next half hour, and only managed to land on a good one when they turned onto Ben's street. They parked alongside the curb, and Max gave the horn a few good honks before reaching into her coat pocket for her cell phone. She fired a quick text to Tiff about their arrival, and then caught Loki giving her a look.

"What?" she snapped as she spied the front door opening. "Did _you_ want to go outside in the cold and tell them we're here?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Your eyes said enough."

"_Your_ eyes said enough."

Max couldn't quite hold back her smirk, and Loki seemed to struggle at his serious façade as they held one another's gaze.

"Morning, ladies," Garret greeted. His entrance was jarring and a little obnoxious, and he made an unnecessary amount of noise as he situated his duffle bag in the backseat. Max felt her cheeks blush _again_, probably at the thought of being caught making eyes at her roommate, and turned back to shoot her friend and Tiff a smile.

"Morning."

"Running a little late?" Tiffany mused, her red hair tousled from the wind, cheeks pink from the cold and exertion of lugging around what appeared to be a bag equal in size to Max's.

"Yeah, we found a mouse in the apartment this morning," Max explained. She immediately felt validated when Tiffany shot her a horrified look.

"Oh, ew!"

"Right?!" she exclaimed, nudging Loki as he groaned. "This guy didn't even care!"

"Whatever, it's a mouse," Garret interrupted, which managed to rope Loki into the conversation. "I mean, it'll probably just leave once it finds something to eat."

"You should have heard her scream this morning when she saw it-"

"Hey, let's not relive my trauma," Max said quickly as she pushed Loki's face out of the conversation. "Where's everybody else?"

Tiff and Garret exchanged glances, and Max felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. What if Loki had upset Ben so much over the break that he actually backed out of their vacation? She shot a quick look up to the house, almost picturing Ben lurking behind a curtain and waiting for them to leave. However, when she saw nothing, she huffed.

"So," Tiffany started, "don't be mad, but…"

"What?"

"Ben and Corey got a ride with Erica already."

Oh, that was so much worse than her original fantastical suspicions. Her eyebrows shot up as she observed the two guilty parties in the backseat, and Loki groaned noisily beside her.

"Why is she even involved in this?"

She wasn't the type to exclude people from a holiday. Hell, if one of Tiffany's friends from back home decided she or he wanted to spend the weekend in Burford with them, Max would have been all for it. The more the merrier! However, the fact that it was Erica soured every ounce of what was going to be a fun, cute little holiday to a party town.

"Garret invited her," Tiffany said frankly, and Max turned her venomous gaze onto the man seated behind her. His eyes widened a little, and he held up his hands defensively.

"She kept prying and pushing and-"

"Ugh, Garret," Max groaned, rolling her eyes as a smile spread across her lips. "You're the _worst_."

He looked so distressed at the crime he had committed, and as much as it bothered Max that she now had to spend a holiday with Erica and whoever else the girl brought to room with her, she couldn't be angry with Garret. Most guys were powerless to Erica's charms, even the ones who were happily occupied with someone else.

"I'm sorry!"

"I'm blaming you for everything horrible she does while we're there," Max teased. Tiffany giggled softly as she pulled the car back onto the main road, and when she glanced at Loki, it looked as though he had eaten something particularly foul tasting. "You alright, champ?"

"I'm fine."

"That's _right_," Tiffany cooed, leaning forward and placing both hands on Loki's shoulders. "Have you two lovebirds been in touch since your little Halloween faux-pas?"

Max's stomach knotted uncomfortably, and Loki looked equally appalled by the question. However, the tone of Tiff's voice was that of a tease; the incident was clearly far enough in the past to be joked about.

"Well?" Max demanded lightly, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "Have you?"

"She… approached me at lunch once," Loki started carefully, arms folded across his chest, "and ruined my biology textbook because I did not attempt to correspond with her after the… the…"

"Faux-pas?" Garret offered. Max held in a snort as Loki sighed again.

"Yes, that."

"Awesome," Tiffany laughed, patting Loki on the shoulders twice before settling back into her seat. "This is going to be the best trip ever."

Max shot her friend a look in the mirror, and then rolled her eyes as the woman waggled her eyebrows in response. As much as she adored Tiff, the woman was obsessed with watching drama unfold. She loathed being a part of it, mind you, but if she could grab a bag of popcorn and watch a pair of women verbally assault each other, her day was made. Well, Max had no intentions of having any sort of confrontations with Erica while they were in Burford. No matter how hard the woman tried to push her, she planned to keep her composure. After all, it was fairly obvious at this point that Loki would choose Max over his Halloween hook-up, and she did not want to ruin her holiday over something stupidly childish.

Besides, while Tiffany may have lived for drama to gossip about, Max preferred her drama to be on reality TV. She hated it when friends fought, and she never liked being roped into relationship issues with other people; it felt like a waste of time, and most issues could be sorted out if people would actually _talk_ to one another.

Mind you, that was easier said than done. She glanced at Loki as he and Garret gushed over his new cell phone, which had somehow made an appearance between Ben's house and the first set of lights. Tiffany eventually snatched it up, and was in the process of adding all of their phone numbers for Loki's viewing pleasure.

Their ride through Masonville and by neighbouring towns consisted of a lot of talk about their respective winter vacations. Loki went first, as he claimed to have the least interesting holiday of the group, though Garret remained forever impressed with all the new gadgets he had picked up in such a short time. Tiffany went next, filling the car in on her trip back to Cincinnati. In reality, the woman had roughly the same holiday as Loki, except for the fact that she had to brave the airports to get to another state, but somehow she managed to drag her stories out for a full half-hour longer than Loki did. Garret tried to follow that act, but in the end maybe pushed out ten minutes worth of detail on his brief trip to New York City to visit his cousins. Although he made it all sound rather dull, Max assumed he spent most of that holiday wasted off his face.

Max was the last to regale the group with tidbits about her holiday to Cancun, and it was then that she let all the drunken shenanigans that she and Nolan had gotten up to out. Loki had snoozed through Tiff and Garret's stories, but he seemed a little more alert when he realized Max had been doing most of the talking. At that point, they were on the highway, and Max could no longer mess around with her friends; highway driving had always made her a little nervous. She was perfectly comfortable driving in the city, and she really enjoyed country roads, but there was something about going as fast as all the cars around her that made her anxious.

Besides, people could be assholes on the highway. Even though the Christmas holiday had come to an end, people were still off from work, and they were all driving out to cabins and hotels and family gatherings for the rest of the winter break, generally in preparation for New Year's Eve. They had left early enough in the morning to avoid the traffic, but not the assholes who thought they owned the road.

They opted to stop for lunch at a sketchy McDonald's on the side of the highway two hours into the drive. At that point, Tiffany had been singing along to the radio for far too long, Loki kept trying to fall asleep and failing whenever she hit a rough patch in the road, and Garret attempted to make some sort of conversation with her, but was constantly interrupted by Tiff's singing.

It seemed like a good time to stop.

Shockingly enough, the restaurant was probably one of the nicest McDonald's establishments she had ever been in; the washrooms were clean, there was enough ketchup in the pump to fill several of the little white cups, and the people behind the counter were ridiculously friendly. Once the group had filled themselves up with greasy food, made use of the restroom facilities, and bought a few apple pies for the road, they were off.

Although Garret had offered to drive the rest of the way to Burford, Max politely turned him down. Her eyes may have been a little unfocused when they hit the bustling little town, but she would have preferred that _she_ be the one to wreck her car, not him.

"This definitely looks different from prom night," Garret muttered as they drove through the busy streets of downtown Burford.

"Yeah, well," she sighed, wrinkling her nose as she slowed at a light. "We're not drunk..."

"I am."

Max smirked when she heard Tiffany smack his arm soundly.

Everything looked a little older than she remembered. In the light of day, the bars appeared grimier, and there were the same old stores here that there were in Masonville. They passed a few chain restaurants that were clearly recent additions to the town, but otherwise Burford appeared as though it hadn't changed in almost ten years. She had been back since prom, obviously, but prom was that momentous occasion that had set Burford in her mind as this little party hub in the middle of nowhere; clearly, her expectations had been maxed out this time around.

They needed to drive through town to get to their hotel, and thankfully they had spotted a number of cute eateries and shops that would make the trip worthwhile. Most of the places around Masonville and other little towns tended to be classified as inns, but the establishment they were staying at was definitely a hotel. As she pulled up the lengthy driveway, surrounded by expertly trimmed bushes on either side, she realized it could rival any of the hotels she had seen in Cancun.

Perched atop a gentle slope, the Kingston Hotel was a wonder for any small-town dweller. It looked a little dated, yes, but it still spanned eight stories up, and umpteen windows across. There was a massive lake to its immediate right, which was used for skating in the winter months, and she knew the grounds were preened for skiers and snowboarders of all levels.

There was even a valet to greet them when Max pulled up to the main entrance, and she hesitantly handed over her keys. A busboy appeared with a cart to load their bags on, and the group was herded inside out of the cold almost immediately after their arrival. The main lobby was surprisingly busy, and she guessed that most of the guests were somewhere in her age range or younger; despite the matured looks of the place with its fake flowers and gaudy red and gold interior, its reputation still seemed to draw younger crowds.

She let Tiff and Garret check-in first, opting to let Loki peruse the flyer rack for a few minutes instead of rushing up to their room. Neither of them had discussed the fact that they would be sleeping next to each other without a wall between them for the next five days, and she wasn't really all that sure if she ought to bring it up. If she did, she would draw attention to the fact that they were sharing a room together, and Loki may wonder if she was overthinking it. If she ignored it, Loki may think she thought nothing of it, and possibly that she had gotten over him in the course of the last few weeks.

Both options had their drawbacks, and Max was forced to face them when the front desk clerk stared down his nose at her, cocked an eyebrow, and then glanced at the computer screen.

"We have you in a room with two twin beds."

Max blinked at him, tapping her credit card anxiously on the counter, and then glanced back at Loki. Her roommate was glaring at the business card in his hand, and seemed almost completely oblivious to the conversation happening in front of him.

"Yes," she said with a nod. "That's fine."

The attendant looked between them again, and then resumed clacking away on his keyboard. Loki nudged her, and then held the business card out for her to view.

"How can one be a front desk concierge _and_ a… DJ?"

The corners of her lips quirked upward when the attendant cleared his throat awkwardly, and she then snapped the card out of his hand.

"I'll explain that one later," she murmured, her smile broadening when Loki grinned. She tucked the card into her pocket, and after a few pieces of paperwork were signed, they were free to head up to their room. She handed him his copy of the room's key as they strolled toward the elevator, both of their bags strung across Loki's shoulders. "So, we're on the fourth floor, sixteenth room."

"Oh, look at the fish-"

"Come on," she droned, dragging him by the sleeve as they passed an enormous fish tank at the far end of the lobby. She spied Tiff and Garret waiting for the next elevator, Garret also carrying both bags, and she waved them down. "I thought you'd be in your room by now… That guy took for fucking ever."

"Someone got distracted by the fish," Tiffany insisted, nodding back toward Garret, whose eyebrows shot up in response.

"_I _got distracted?"

She pursed her lips. "_We_ got distracted…"

Max smirked, and moments later the elevator button lit up and the doors opened smoothly. They had to wait for a family of six to get off, each person lugging two bags with them as the doors tried to close. When there was eventually enough free space, they pressed inward, along with everyone else waiting in the elevator zone, and she ended up being squished against Loki's chest – it seemed like the entire fucking hotel opted to take the same elevator at one time.

"You okay?" she muttered, placing a hand against his chest as she tried to turn her body to the side. He winced a little, and then shrugged.

"There's something from your bag that's digging into my back…"

"It's a shoe."

"It's very pointy-"

"Shoe," she repeated, her tone as matter-of-fact as possible. She then patted his chest, quite enjoying the forced nestling. "Thanks for suffering for me."

"Yes, I feel as though I ought to be rewarded for this," he told her, readjusting the strap to her bag and quirking an eyebrow. She sucked in her cheeks, and then quickly turned away before he saw her smile. Tiff caught her gaze from across the elevator, and Max rolled her eyes a little, which made the other woman laugh.

When the assholes who couldn't walk up a flight of stairs got off at the first floor, there was more room to spread out, but Max found a way to remain close to her roommate right up until they needed to exit the elevator. It turned out that Tiffany and Garret were only three rooms down from theirs, and the group spotted Corey on his way back from the ice machine at the end of the hall. Pleasantries were exchanged, and Max learned that he and Ben were five rooms down, and Erica and Molly (a friend from Masonville who Max knew nothing about) were seven rooms across.

Loki seemed eager to get her bag off his back, and after a quick chat about the drive up, Max made her excuses and they were able to slip off to their room. After struggling with the electronic lock for a moment or so, Max stumbled into their room. To her immediate right was a bathroom, which seemed to have the basics. It was all white, which was a little off-putting, but Max assumed it was to show the hotel's cleaning prowess.

"This is… nice."

She followed the sound of Loki's voice into the main area of the room, which was about the size of their rooms back home combined. Just as the attendant had told her, two twin beds sat on either side of a night table; no romantic comedy mix-ups where they would be forced to share a double. Thankfully, the white theme didn't quite carry on from the bathroom, and she assumed that the darker carpeting and bedclothes were also strategic on the part of the hotel.

As Loki dumped their bags on the floor, Max sauntered across the room to peer out one of their two windows.

"Oh, see, this was what we paid for," Max insisted as she pinned the curtain back. "_Look_ at that view…"

They overlooked the back of the hotel, which was covered in small hills, a lovely forest, and what appeared to be walking trails. There was a coffee bar – or something of that nature – nestled in the courtyard below, and if she pressed herself up against the side, she could _just_ see the start of the frozen lake. Max glanced over her shoulder, expecting Loki to be there, and then frowned when she saw him sprawled out across one of the beds.

"Come see the view," she ordered, and nodded toward the window when he turned his head to her.

"I'm sure the view will be there whenever I am fit to look at it."

"Oh, poor baby," she cooed, which made him scoff noisily. "Is someone tired?"

"Actually, yes."

Max quickly realized she wasn't going to get much more out of him when he was acting that sour, and she decided to just leave him be for a little while.

"Well, why don't you have a nap?" she suggested as he flung an arm over his eyes. "I'm just going to check out everyone else's rooms."

"I bet they all look the same," he muttered sleepily.

* * *

When Loki awoke, he still felt like he could have slept for another six hours. A quick glance at the digital clock on the nightstand beside him indicated that he had snoozed for over four hours already, and if he wished to fall asleep at a reasonable hour that night, he ought to force himself up.

His sleeping schedule had been ridiculous while Max was away. Stark and his boys were up at all hours of the day, and without a normal person to keep him in check, Loki went into his own rhythm; he slept when he was tired, and sometimes that was at ten in the morning, other times that was at six in the afternoon. He allowed his weakened body to catch-up on all the sleep it had lacked while he stressed (unnecessarily, mind you) and crammed for school examinations before the break. Surprisingly, sleep had made his body feel better than ever, and he decided that if he was still in this realm when the new year rolled in, he would make more of an effort to treat his body to what it needed.

Unfortunately, Max's return had sent his schedule into a veritable mess. He stayed up long after she fell asleep on him during their movie, spending most of his time searching through news articles – as he was supposed to. She woke up a few times in the course of the night, but she tended to simply roll over and fall back asleep. Once, she was awake long enough to ask him what he had been doing, but his quick dismissal of her sent her right back to sleep. When Loki was finally ready to get some rest of his own, he saw that Max had taken up the entirety of his bed, and he hadn't the heart to move her. So, he tried to relax in his new chair, but the sleep that followed proved entirely useless.

As much as he normally appreciated Max's voice, hers combined with Tiffany's that day had been absolute insanity for his sleep-deprived brain. They were both lucky he had learned to keep his temper under control; otherwise they would have both received a rather harsh verbal lashing for all their chatter. However, when they finally arrived at the damned hotel, Loki was hopeful for a bed and some peace, and he was able to keep himself together until he found both. Luckily enough, Max seemed to understand his need to shut his eyes for a few hours, and after she departed to explore the other rooms, he hadn't heard a thing from her.

However, it was clear she had been back for some time. As he sat up and rubbed his eyes, he could vaguely hear movement coming from their shared bathroom, accompanied by some soft music. He groaned a little, in need of the toilet and some breath freshener, and then staggered to his feet. The light had disappeared outside, and there was no chance he could see the view Max had been prattling on about until daylight the following day. So, he eased himself across the room and leaned against the bathroom door, tapping gently on the ridiculously white panel.

"Max?"

"Hey, I'm just getting ready."

"Do you mind letting me use the toilet for a moment?"

"Uhm…" She trailed off, and he heard her lower the music. "Do you mind waiting? I'm sort of a mess in here."

"_Max_," he groaned, tapping the door a little louder this time. "I'll only be a moment."

He wasn't necessarily _asking_, as it was a given that he should be able to use the toilet he had also paid for whenever he damn-well pleased, but she seemed unwilling to compromise.

"Would you mind just using Garret and Tiffany's?"

He rolled his eyes irritably, and then sighed. "Fine."

"They are in four-thirteen-"

"I recall, thanks."

The tone to his response had been a little tighter than he intended it to be, but she ought to realize she was being a little ridiculous. Actually, she had been a little ridiculous all day, starting with the mouse incident and ending here in the bathroom. Loki hoped that she found her sanity again – for both of their sakes.

His need for the toilet became much more pressing as he stalked down the hallway, and he kept knocking at Garret's door until he heard someone unlocking it from the inside.

"Hey, where's the fire, man?" Garret hissed, glaring as he opened the door.

"Sorry, but Max has commandeered our bathroom, and I'm a little desperate," Loki said bluntly, his voice low to keep the man's girlfriend from overhearing. "May I?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," the man replied, moving out of the way and beckoning him in. "You're lucky… Tiff just finished."

He grunted as he hurried in, and said nothing further as he darted into their bathroom. As he suspected, their room looked identical to his. Relief was sweet, and he almost groaned at the sensation of an empty bladder – _finally_. Afterward, he washed up and took a very quick swig of Garret's mouthwash, careful not to let his lips touch the rim of the bottle. With those two issues sorted, Loki actually felt his temper calm too, and he was able to step out of the room much calmer than he entered it.

"Thank you," he breathed. There was music coming from a set of speakers in the corner, and he spied Tiffany leaning in toward a mirror that hung over a desk; she looked quite nice, actually. His eyes swept up her body, and while although she was quite curvaceous, she did look very lovely in the dark blue dress she had chosen. The woman looked at him quickly, and then laughed.

"You aren't wearing that tonight, are you?"

He blinked stupidly, and then glanced down at his outfit: a black sweater and a pair of dark jeans that he had thrown on that morning, both of which looked wrinkled from his nap.

"I…" He cleared his throat. "Is something happening tonight?"

"Max didn't tell you?"

"I was asleep," he said quickly, coming to his roommate's defense faster than he should have.

"We managed to get the last table booked for dinner tonight downstairs," Tiffany explained. Loki spotted Garret sprawled out on their shared bed, legs outstretched and finger tugged at the cuff of his pressed shirt. Meanwhile, Tiffany continued to apply colour to her face, despite the fact Loki thought she didn't need it. "Afterward, we're going to try the club in the basement… If it's good, we might just stay here for New Year's Eve."

"Ah."

"The reservation's for eight, so make sure Max is ready," Tiffany continued, smirking at him briefly before nodding at the door. He took that as a hint, and after saying his goodbyes, he hurried back to his room. If the meal was set at eight, he only had twenty minutes to ready himself, never mind Max.

As he stepped back into his room, locking the door behind him, Loki wondered what Max had planned to do about the fact that he was asleep. Did she intend to let him sleep throughout the night while she went out with the rest of the group? The idea made him frown a little, and he tapped the door again as he passed to let her know that he had returned. However, notions that she had planned to ignore him went out the window when he spotted a small white note propped up on their mirror. Loki snatched it and held it up to view, a smile spreading across his lips.

_We're doing dinner at eight with everyone, and then a bar night. Don't dress like a hobo._

He wasn't particularly sure what a "hobo" was, but he assumed it had something to do with someone who did not dress all that well. So, as Max continued to hog the bathroom, Loki reached into the depths of his backpack for one of three nice shirts he had rolled and stuffed in there. He chose a dark green button-up shirt, and opted to keep himself in the trousers he had already been wearing. With his new outfit sorted, he added some spray that human men used to mask any sort of smell they gave off, ran a comb through his hair, and then sat on the edge of the bed.

It took him all of four minutes to get ready… No wonder Max hadn't bothered to wake him.

He refrained from looking in the mirror, because he knew that if he did, he would have been disgusted with the being he had become. Here he was, fretting over the reasons why Max hadn't woken him up sooner for a dinner, whereas months ago he had been plotting to rule an entire realm. If he succumbed to his thoughts, he would have been lost for the night.

Fortunately for Loki, the music stopped and the bathroom door opened just as he started to sink into those thoughts, and he looked up quickly with the expectation of seeing his roommate. What he saw, however, was something so much more, and for the first time in… well, most of his existence, his jaw dropped a little.

There she was, clad head to toe in black. Well, not entirely, as there was a fair amount of tanned skin showing from her legs. She had a shockingly tight black dress on, one that curved wonderfully over her most flattering features and stopping just below the tops of her thighs. If his eyes were to travel downward, which they did, he would find her wearing a pair of sinfully high heels, which did wondrous favours for the legs he had come to hold in such high regard.

He had _never_ seen her wear something like that. Yes, her outfit on Halloween had been skimpy, but that was a costume! This was… This was a dress.

She had done something different to her hair too, and Loki licked his lips as he stared at it, rising to his feet soundlessly. It looked bigger than usual, perhaps curlier? Whatever she had done, he approved of the whole thing; she even smelled lovely as she breezed by him.

"So," she said, her voice cutting through the dumfounded silence sharply. "Do I look okay?"

"Nice," Loki remarked quickly, and then cleared his throat. "You look… You look very nice."

All of the day's transgressions were out the window, and Loki simply wanted to reach out and trail his hands along the curve of her waist and hips. _Yes_, he had already seen all of this before, but she had never laid herself out so delicately for him.

"Good," she chuckled, pausing briefly at the desk below the mirror to put their room keys into her purse. "Let's go then…"

He didn't want to leave. In fact, he never wanted to leave this room. She had _clearly_ dressed like that for him, and that made him want to shove her up against that little desk and ruin everything. However, before he had the chance to even attempt to do that, Max was in front of him, smoothing her thumb along his eyebrow. She then offered him a smile, and sauntered by as though it was nothing.

* * *

When Max had stayed at the Kingston Hotel after prom, she and her friends had been desperate to try the basement nightclub out. However, they were all so obviously underage that it was laughable, and after getting drunk on wine coolers in their rooms, they went out for a night of wild shenanigans on the town. When she had returned over the course of her early to mid-twenties, Max and her companions had gone back to the familiar for their drinking benders, which usually consisted of the downtown bars and clubs. Therefore, when Erica made the suggestion of trying out the basement club once and for all, she found it difficult to refuse, even if the suggestion _had_ come from someone she found difficult to look at.

Despite the obvious dislike now floating between her and Erica, they had managed to stay cordial thus far. Her friend, Molly, was actually quite a lovely girl despite her terrible taste in friends, and Max had chosen the seat at the opposite end of the table during their dinner. Distance was the way, thus far, to keep the feud from becoming too public, and that seemed to work well with both women. Besides, Erica had clearly moved on from Loki, and made it fairly obvious that either Corey or Ben were going to be her back-up if she couldn't find a guy at the club that evening.

Dinner had been great, though Max spent a lot of that time trying to pretend she didn't notice the way Loki openly gawked at her. Honestly, it was like he had never seen someone in a little black dress before… The thought made Max grin stupidly, her make-up hiding the flush of natural colour in her cheeks. When they had finished dinner and downed a few of the restaurant's fabulous cocktails, the group made their way down to the club. At that point, it was ten o'clock, and the dance floor, booths, and bar were just at the point of being pleasantly full. There was a modest-sized dance floor, obnoxious flashing lights, a bar on either side of the room, and a line of booths and small seats surrounding the neon dance floor.

They had been there for almost an hour at that point, and from what they had heard, the DJ was intent on playing a remixed list of Top Forty tunes, and that was about it. There was the occasional throwback to something from the nineties, which had been a blast to dance to, and the fact that some of the drinks were included in the cost of her stay made the DJ just a little more tolerable.

There had been a clear divide in the group, however, once they settled into the club. Corey, Ben, and Loki seemed intent on remaining in the booth for as long as possible with their beer, while Erica and Molly disappeared to chat up a group of guys at the bar – Max suspected they wouldn't spend a cent on their drinks tonight, especially if the length of their skirts had anything to do with it. Meanwhile, Max, Garret, and Tiffany situated themselves in the middle of the dance floor, and had worked up a sweat to the beats pounding from nearby speakers. She didn't particularly see herself as a third wheel, but there were some songs that were better left to couples for dancing.

Max was on her way back from the rather messy bathroom when Ben intercepted her. At that point, she was about five drinks in, but nothing had been strong enough to give her more than a pleasant buzz; she may have been a little wobbly in her heels, but otherwise she was in complete control. So, she smiled up at her friend, pleased to see him off the leather sofa at their booth, and then tugged him toward the dance floor.

"Come on!"

"No, Max," he shouted, clearly unimpressed to have to yell over the music. "I need to talk to you!"

"_Now_?"

"It's important," he argued, coming in closer to speak in her ear. She caught the scent of vodka on his breath, and made a bit of a face. "Loki isn't who he says he is."

"What?"

"I saw him with Stark-"

Max rolled her eyes, and then nudged his arm off her. "Look, you're clearly drunk-"

"He had them over-"

"Ben," Max said sharply, taking him by the shoulders and giving him a shake, "Loki doesn't know anything about anyone other than us… So, we're going to pause this discussion and pick it up when we're sober."

"Max-"

"Are you coming to dance?" she demanded noisily, tugging him toward the floor. She stuck her tongue out at him when he resisted and shook his head, and then released him. "Fine!"

She knew Loki and Ben had had a tiff, but this wasn't necessarily the time or place to discuss it. In fact, Max didn't even want to go _near_ the subject right now. All she wanted to do tonight was dance, drink, and possibly entice Loki into joining up with her for a dirty song on the dance floor. Ben disappeared from her mind when she navigated her way through the crowd, and then bounced between Tiffany and Garret for a peppy song about peacocks and showing off. Garret seemed a little unsure if he should touch her or not, and instead put his hands awkwardly on her shoulders. Tiffany, however, pinched her behind and then wrapped her arms around her waist, giggling drunkenly in her ear.

"Get him out here!"

"What?" Max laughed, encircling her waist happily.

"Loki," her friend slurred, nodding back toward their booth nearby. "He can't keep his eyes off you."

Max shrugged her shoulders, expression smug. "I know."

"So bring him out here!"

She glanced back toward the crowd. "Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

Tiffany planed a big, wet kiss on her cheek, and then pushed her drunkenly in the general direction of their booth. Head held high, Max took a deep breath and weaved her way through the people. If everything went to shit because they engaged in a little bit of dirty dancing, she could blame it on the alcohol – even if she barely felt anything from it. When she made her way out of the crowd and spotted her booth, she saw Loki finishing a bottle of beer, looking as unimpressed with the scene as Ben had, and Max licked her lips. Hopefully her hair hadn't deflated too much.

His expression brightened a touch when she approached, and that managed to push her confidence even further.

"Hey," she greeted, not quite as smoothly as she had hoped for, and then grabbed his hand. "Come dance!"

"I… I really don't dance, Max," he remarked tightly, their faces quite near to one another so that they could hear over their music. "It's fine."

"No, just one dance," she argued, leaning back and yanking him up by the wrist. It must have been obvious that she was not up for a refusal.

He made a bit of a face as he rose, and Corey looked positively lost when he was left alone at their group booth. Max could care less, and dragged her roommate out onto the floor just as the song changed into something perfect for a little one-on-one dancing. The heels definitely helped with the height difference, and Max placed a hand at the back of his neck, guiding him toward her as the other tugged at his shirt. For a moment, he looked a little baffled, somewhat unsure of himself, and she wrapped one of his arms around her waist. As she did that, she leaned up on the tips of her toes, bringing her lips very close to his – just to tease – and then turned away before he could kiss her. Instead, she switched up their positioning so that her back was to his chest, her body pressed snugly against his.

She was about to give him a little guidance, perhaps how to move his hips to a beat, when he bit down on the juncture between her neck and shoulder, which brought her movement to a stuttering halt as she gasped. Her hand snaked up into his hair as he trailed his tongue lightly up the length of her neck, and when she turned her head to the side, she let him claim her lips.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**AWW SHIT. AWWWW SHIT, FOLKS. **

**So I was basically just excited to write the last sentence of this chapter. However, I wasn't just going to skip ahead. When my shift at work got cancelled today, and all my roommates went home for the weekend, I took it as a fucking sign and chewed this baby out for you. The final scene was one of the first few that I came up with, and I've been stoked to write it for **_**ages**_**. **

**Apparently Max has an intense dislike for mice and rats, but who cares – they're eating each other's faces right now. I'm sure none of you would care right now about anything else I'd say in this note… I found Loki and Max very sassy towards one another during the day, and it made sense in my brain that you take their attitudes, add in some alcohol, a sexy black dress, and it's Make-Out City, population TWO. **

**Love you guys! This update absolutely brutalized my wrists, so it probably won't be later in the week until we see an update or even a message on my tumblr about the start of an update. But I'm excited. **

**Thank you all for getting me to 600 reviews! It's incredible, and the most feedback I have EVER GOTTEN EVER. So you're lovely. And a guest reviewer left these thoughtful words from the last chapter: "THEY NEED TO FUCK."**

**So. Yeah. –throws confetti everywhere-**


	37. Locked out of Heaven, Paradise

Max inhaled sharply, her hand knotted in Loki's hair as he pressed his lips firmly to hers. All thoughts of dance and movement were thrown out the window, and she felt a pleasurable jolt in the pit of her abdomen when he nipped at her lower lip, deepening the kiss with a casual demand that made her knees weak. She turned in his arms, her grip slipping from his hair as she threw both arms around his neck and dragged him closer.

She would have thought the taste of beer would have thrown her, but as his tongue slipped between her lips, she decided that it barely fazed her. Instead, she simply wanted more – more touching, more pressure, more everything. As his hand slid down her backside, cupping it briefly before continuing down to touch her leg, Max realized the rest of the club barely existed in that moment; she couldn't hear the music, feel the odd person who knocked into her, and she certainly didn't care that the rest of her friends could possibly be witnessing a make-out fest. It definitely hadn't been what she would have pictured her first (second) time kissing Loki would be like, but when he broke the kiss to graze his teeth along her jawline, she realized she wouldn't have it any other way.

Suddenly, it was all gone. Max opened her eyes quickly, a little miffed at the separation, and saw her roommate staring down at her with a hard gaze. He pursed his lips as she tried to look as though she wasn't panting.

"What?" she snapped, her annoyance growing as he stared down at her. She planted her hands on her hips, arching an eyebrow at him, and then glared at the dick who drunkenly stumbled into her. Before she could say anything further, however, Loki grabbed her by the crook of her elbow and dragged her off the dance floor, nudging by people somewhat forcefully as he went.

When she realized he was headed toward the exit, she tried valiantly to keep the excited grin from her lips, but tugged on his arm before he got too far.

"I need my purse," she explained breathily in his ear, which made him grin. Her head was a little fuzzy as she hurried back to their booth, in which the entire group had congregated back to get a refill on their drinks. Erica gave her a onceover as she approached, but Max pointedly ignored her. Instead, she leaned across Corey and grabbed her purse from beneath Garret's discarded sweater vest.

Tiffany shot her a pair of thumbs up as she passed, but even her close friends were a blur, and Max made a beeline for Loki. He hadn't moved from the spot that she left him at, and once she was by his side again, he snatched her wrist and resumed dragging her through the crowded club. They stumbled out into the narrow basement hallway, passed the bouncers and guests eagerly awaiting a chance to get into the club. Since the night was still early, it was as though they were the only two people waiting for an elevator, and it seemed to take hours to actually make it to their floor.

Max's stomach knotted when the orange light above the doors illuminated, and she huffed impatiently as a group of fairly drunk girls teetered off in their ridiculous heels. Once the space was cleared, Loki practically shoved her inside, and Max slammed her palm against the fourth floor button, followed shortly by the one to close the doors. She giggled as he pushed her up against the back wall, his lips to hers the moment the elevator started moving, a hand hooking beneath her leg and dragging it up to his waist. He ground against her as his lips trailed down to her neck; it was fairly obvious what he wanted to do, and for once, Max couldn't see a reason not to.

Screw the fact that they weren't dating – fuck it. This was happening.

A small squeak slipped from her lips when the elevator stopped abruptly at the ground floor, and she hastily pushed Loki off her as the doors started to open, a hand going to her hair to fix whatever mess he had made. They both leaned back against the railing in an attempt to appear nonchalant, and she licked her lips when she spied the man who was about to join them – she could smell the whiskey on him _before_ he got onto the elevator. The front of his salmon shirt was untucked, while the back remained in place, and it seemed as though he really needed the bar on the side paneling to hold him up. He punched in the sixth floor button, and then smirked at them.

"I know what you were doing," he sang, pointing a knobby finger at them and clucking his tongue. Max felt her cheeks tint, and she linked her fingers with Loki's, turning her body toward his in an attempt to block the guy out. "Don' stop on account-a me!"

She saw Loki's jaw clench as he surveyed the man, but Max caught his attention again when she leaned up and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. He glanced down, somewhat dazed and blinking quickly, and then returned her small smile with one of his own. Both smiles faltered a little when the man started humming what sounded suspiciously like the soundtrack to a terrible porno, and Max glanced up at the ceiling awkwardly, trying her damnedest not to laugh. Loki, on the other hand, seemed less than impressed.

The rather uncomfortable elevator ride felt longer than it actually was, and in less than a minute Max tugged her roommate out of the confined space amidst the drunkard's hooting. Once the doors shut, thankfully, the pair forgot about the incident entirely, and Loki resumed his assault on her lips. They were lucky that hall was empty, as Max staggered backward blindly in the general direction of their room, her hands swept up in his hair and eyes shut. She managed to open them just as they passed their door, and she was the one to break the kiss, tugging him by the front of his shirt back toward their door. Her hands shook as she fumbled around in her purse for one of their keys, the process made infinitely more difficult with Loki nipping at her neck, his hands wandering down to the hemline of her dress.

She eventually managed to produce one of their key cards just as Loki yanked her head back by her hair, his teeth latching to her earlobe as she let out a soft moan. He chuckled against her skin, and Max forced herself to focus on getting that fucking door open; she missed the slot twice, still driven to distraction by Loki's attentions, but she somehow managed to get it in, and as soon as the lock buzzed, she shoved the door wide open.

Max tugged Loki in by his shirt, and before the door had actually shut, he was dragging her dress up and over her head. She tossed her purse aside, as she had no need for anything in it, and then kicked off her shoes; it was nice having the extra height, and the heels made her legs look awesome, but they were difficult to work with. As Loki swooped down, his lips and teeth running over her collarbone, tugging fiendishly at her thin bra strap, Max's fingers made short work of the buttons on his shirt. With them undone, she pushed the fabric off his shoulders and almost ripped it down his arms, leaving it to join the accumulating pile of clothing on the floor.

He then had her back against the wall, his lips back to hers, and needy cry reverberated in her throat when he ground his hips against hers, the coarse fabric of his jeans sending a twinge of pleasure up through her abdomen. Her hands were everywhere, desperate to touch every inch of toned flesh beneath them, whereas Loki's had drifted up to her bra clasp. When he struggled with it for a moment, Max giggled against his lips, and with an irritated huff, Loki turned her around by the hips. He pressed her firmly to the wall, sliding a leg between her thighs right up to her center and hoisting her to tackle the contraption with better light. When he finally unclasped the garment, Max let him slide it from her body and toss it aside, replacing the material with his large hands.

At this point, this was the most she had ever undressed for him, and it would have been easy to ask him to slow down. However, she had no desire to do so, no inner voice demanding she stop and consider her options: more, more, more.

She swallowed thickly when he plucked at her nipples, her head arched back against his shoulder. There was a surprisingly gentleness with the way his hands worked her, a way that was in sharp contrast to the treatment her skin received from his teeth, lips, and tongue. However, when she felt a finger tug at the elastic band of her black underwear, she licked her lips and turned in his arms, pushing him until the backs of his knees collided with his bed. He stumbled a little, and Max used the momentum to push him down by his shoulders.

He eagerly accepted her lips once more, which were parted and demanding as he snaked a hand up through her hair. Max, however, lingered only for a moment, and broke the kiss in favour of putting her talents to better use. She trailed a line of kisses down his chin, along his neck and onto his chest. As expected, there were only a few sparse hairs on his smooth skin, and Max could have spent hours appreciating the shape of each muscle present. However, for both of their sakes, she moved on, popping the button of his jeans open and quickly unzipping them.

A hiss slipped from between his lips when she grasped him firmly, dropping down to her knees as she stroked his very obvious sign of arousal. Then, just as his grip loosened on her hair, she pulled him out completely and ran her tongue along the length of his shaft.

"_Max_." His voice seemed to catch in his throat, and she felt a swell of pride in her chest at the way he yanked at her hair, clearly pleased with her ministrations. However, she couldn't torment him for long, even if she wanted to, as before she could take more than half of his length in her mouth, he dragged her up by her arms and pushed her back onto the bed, effectively reversing their positions. She let out a shocked puff of air as he all but ripped the remainder of her clothing from her body, and then quickly shed the rest of his, all of it making a messy pile on the floor.

It would have been easy to explore the parts of his body she had never seen before in their entirety, but as he descended upon her, she couldn't bring herself to look anywhere but at his eyes. It was the desire she saw inside them that made her limbs tingle, a need growing in her that hadn't ever really been present between them before. She sat up just enough to catch his lips, their kiss momentarily tender as he situated himself between her thighs.

Loki was the one to make the final move; he pressed up to her, and Max gasped against his lips as he pushed inside her completely. For a moment, it was overwhelming, fresh tingles of pleasure traveling up and outward from the spot of their union, and Max clung to him by his shoulders, eyes pressed tightly shut as she enjoyed the sensation. She had no qualms at letting him set a steady pace, pulling out fully before thrusting sharply back in, her legs wrapped securely around his hips as he nestled his face in the crux of her neck and shoulder. At one point, she could have sworn he whispered her name against her skin, and she merely kissed whatever flesh she had access to.

It was difficult to keep quiet when he increased his pace, and she rocked her hips up to meet him as his hands dug almost painfully into her waist and thigh. She could feel the familiar sensation of a climax beginning; it may have been early yet, but she knew the telltale signs of its start. So, she forced him in closer, her legs tightening around him, her kisses frantic and somewhat desperate as she sought out his lips, and her stomach squirmed in delight when he returned them with an equalled desire.

Suddenly, he pulled out of her, and the loss of sensation was so jarring that Max actually let out a protesting cry. However, he quickly slid down her body, filling her again with three digits that immediately knew where to find the sensitive spot that so desperately needed attention. She bit her lip in order to keep their neighbours from hearing _every_ detail of the tryst, but squealed softly when Loki bit at the side of her breast, tongue laving over the tender flesh as his fingers continued to torment her. She came shortly after, her nails digging little ruts into his skin as she rode out the little shockwaves of pleasure.

He was ridiculously talented, her roommate.

When Max's eyes fluttered open, she noticed a slight tremor in the arm that prompted him up, and she took it upon herself to roll them over carefully. It was tricky, seeing as the bed was only a twin, but somehow she managed to get herself on top and straddling him. She took his length in hand, and then slid down its entirety, pleased at the way his eyes all but rolled back as he sighed happily. She planted soft kisses everywhere – lips, neck, cheeks, forehead – and kept her pace slow, merely rocking her hips back and forth, occasionally up and down. He seemed to enjoy it, one hand on her hip and the other holding her hair back from curtaining them.

Shortly after, the pace didn't seem to be quite enough for him; his kisses were needier, his grip was tighter, and he seemed to take the initiative to thrust upward each time she rocked. Her pleasure from her own orgasm had weakened, and although she knew there wouldn't be a second one that night, she couldn't stem the pleasurable twinges she felt here and there.

He suddenly tried to roll them over again, perhaps because of the obvious need he displayed, but instead of smoothly transitioning as they had done the first time, the pair nearly rolled off the bed. Max let out a laugh as Loki caught them, one hand propped up against the nearby wall as the other held her to him, and he seemed a little surprise when he chuckled softly. There hadn't necessarily been any tension between them before their slip-up, but afterward things felt even more comfortable than they had before.

With Max on her back again, she let Loki take what he needed, thrusting roughly and pointedly against her as he groaned. He bit at her neck, murmuring things she couldn't quite understand against her flesh, keen and eager and desperate.

"Max," he grunted in her ear, his pace stuttering as he pounded against her, the bed creaking a little under the force. "I… I can't…"

"It's fine," she whispered, running her hands through his hair and kissing his temple. "It's fine, I'm on the pill… It's okay."

She wasn't particularly sure if that was what he wanted to hear, but he said nothing further. When she felt him tense and then stiffen against her, she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her lips at the sound of his groan. For a few moments after, there were no other sounds in the room but their shared heavy breathing. She combed her fingers through his hair once more, tilting her head up to accept his final kiss, and then sighed as he pulled out and rolled off of her. They lay next to one another in silence for a moment or so, until Max finally eased herself up into a seated position and ran her hand through her hair. Their room was a mess, clothes scattered everywhere, and she didn't particularly want to spoil the linens – sex was messy.

So, she crawled to the end of the bed and snatched up Loki's discarded shirt – there was her romantic comedy moment – and then wrapped it around herself.

"Be right back," she said, her words somewhat unnecessary, and then hastily darted off to the bathroom.

As she cleaned herself up, Max caught sight of her appearance in the bathroom mirror, and she actually blushed. There she was, skin flushed, littered with little bit marks, and her hair an absolute mess. However, what she noticed most of all was that she looked happy – genuinely happy.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, clicking off the light and buttoning up Loki's shirt, she saw that her roommate had decided to do a little rearranging. The little side table between the beds had been dragged across the room, resting now next to the desk, and he was in the process of pushing the beds together.

"Whatcha doin', sport?" Max inquired lightly, tucking her hair behind her ear when he smirked up at her. He had opted to wear a pair of boxers as he worked, which was a shame.

"Well, I thought it would be a little ridiculous if we finished the night sleeping in separate beds," he informed her as he gave the bed in front of him one final push to connect it with the other. He then faced her square-on, arms folded across his chest, and arched an eyebrow. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, no," she laughed, holding her hands up submissively before crawling back onto the bed and searching for the best way to combine the comforters. "No, this is fine."

"Good."

When she looked back over her shoulder, he was gone, and she heard the sound of the bathroom door shutting shortly after. She then settled down under the thick duvet, her smile becoming a bit excessive as she made herself comfortable on her side, one arm curled under the pillow. Loki joined her shortly after, shutting off the lights in the process. He snuggled in behind her and yanked her up against him, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"Your hair is going to be a problem," he mumbled. Max patted his arm sleepily.

"Shh."

"No, it's a serious issue."

"Just let it happen."

"Max."

She sighed dramatically, and then rolled over, tucking her arms up to her chest, their noses less than an inch apart.

"Better?"

"Infinitely so."

She smirked, her eyes dancing across his features in the darkness, and then leaned forward to kiss him again.

"Good."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Prayers answered? I've **_**never**_** made my readers wait this long for teh seckz before, so you guys are super patient and awesome for waiting it out! I don't think future sex scenes will be quite this long, but I figured it should be a little lengthier for their first time around. Weirdly enough, I found it way easier to write the previous sexy scene from Loki's POV than Max's. For some reason, I felt sillier writing from Max's perspective… Odd. ANYWHO. Did we all have fun? I know these two did…I'm still not 100% confident in my sex scenes, but I guess I'll just need to write more to get better! How sad for you.  
**

**The last update absolutely destroyed my wrists. Like. That was way too much. So I think updates may be a little slower this month while I recover. Gotta think long-term, unfortunately. It won't be like… an update a month, or anything like that. Last month I believe I updated this story five times, and my other stories combined got four updates. So. I need to pace myself a bit more. **

**There will be necessary chats coming up in the next chapter, followed by possible fluff. I try to keep these sorts of scenes limited to character development and whatnot. I'm sure you've guessed I don't just throw sex around for fun, but seeing as sex is very much a part of adult relationships, I think it'll still make a frequent enough appearance. **

**Right. This is all my wrists can give for the night!**

**I LOVE YOU ALL. YOUR SUPPORT IS UNWAVERING AND FOREVER APPRECIATED. Can't wait to read your feedback, and I'll see you next time!**


	38. Boom, Shake, Drop

When Loki awoke that morning, he immediately realized they hadn't had the decency to shut the curtains the night before. The light had been soft in their room, given only by a singular lamp with a dull yellow hue, but he was sure if someone paid extra-close attention to their window, they may have seen a show.

Luckily enough, the sky beyond their window pane that morning was a rather depressing grey; not bright enough to rouse either of them from slumber, but just bright enough to not be able to ignore once one was awake. He sighed deeply, stretching his limbs out until his hands knocked against the headboard, and then rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His bedmate wasn't far away, wrapped up in one of their two quilts, his shirt visible on the part of her shoulder that peaked out from beneath the blanket; he smiled.

In all their time together, Loki hadn't ever actually thought of taking Max to bed. Naturally, as any man would, he had fantasized about the possibilities, and he had occasionally thought of her when that ridiculous level of human arousal made it difficult to concentrate on anything else. However, he had fully planned to respect her wishes when it came to the subject matter: no bed-sharing unless they were together. It seems they had forgone her objections, considering they were both sleeping off the aftereffects of some alcohol and intimacy, and the repercussions of it all made Loki's head clouded.

Even though he had been the one to kiss her first (and how could he have resisted, really?), Max was the one to agree to everything beyond the bedroom door. He wasn't the type to take what wasn't willingly given, and if she had, for any moment, indicated that she wished to stop, he would have. Yes, it would have been unfortunate for him, and their relationship may have fallen back into an uncomfortable area that made cohabitating difficult, but Loki would have done it. But when he recalled the night's events as he lay there, hands behind his head, Max's soft breaths sounding to his left, he knew that there was no hint of denial in her.

Now, he wasn't going to say that their tryst felt _right_. He certainly wasn't delusional enough to say that it was "what he had wanted all along", or that it had opened his eyes to a world of possibilities between them. He still had every intention of leaving Midgard when the opportunity presented itself, but perhaps he may grant Max the option to come along for an adventure – should she wish it. Their sexual encounter had been… nice. No, beyond nice: pleasurable, relieving, and clarifying – for Loki, anyway. He felt appreciated, and it was so very obvious that her affections had come from a genuine part of her being. He was terribly fond of her, his ludicrous roommate, and Loki saw the step they made the previous night as a means to further their relationship.

Besides, his stay in this realm would surely be even _more_ tolerable if he could have her whenever he wanted her. He was a man, after all. Naturally, he was aware that she would wish to discuss things; Max was not completely unreasonable as a woman, but Loki knew that she would need something from him. Considering nothing had changed for him, and no progress had been made, perhaps Loki may need something from her too.

She had certainly been one of his better bedmates, and he realized it was because not only did she give willingly, but she also took to satisfy her own means. He had been with women so submissive that he felt an immense pressure to perform, and then at the other end of the spectrum there were partners who acted as though he wasn't even there once they got themselves sorted. No, Max seemed to be just what he needed sexually – for now… and for a human. She was deliciously pliant when he needed her to be, and yet she clearly knew how to take. Soft skin, delectable moans, and legs that wrapped around him so snugly…

He glanced downward when he realized his mind had somehow drifted back to what they had been doing previously, and his body had begun to respond accordingly. An eyebrow cocked, and he shot Max a quick look, wondering if he dared press for another round only a matter of hours after they had finished. She stirred softly, and then rolled onto her side, her back facing him as she readjusted. The bedroom was certainly the time to be _daring_, was it not? Loki pursed his lips, and then followed her, settling himself directly up against her, chest to back, and then wrapped an arm around her waist.

A soft groan emitted from her at the contact, and he pushed her unruly hair out of the way so that he could just catch her eyelashes fluttering apart. He nuzzled into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, pleased that he could smell both the lingering remnant of his cologne mixed with her nature scent.

"Morning."

"Already?" she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes briefly before sliding her hand along his arm. "What time is it?"

"I don't know," he muttered as he shot a quick glance down to their joined hands. "I don't care."

"Me neither."

Her drowsy smile was infectious, and Loki planted a few soft kisses along the slope of her neck, quite pleased with the way she arched back against him. The hand that wove up into his hair was encouragement enough, and Loki propped himself up on his elbow, using his now free hand to wander below the covers and along the curves he liked best. She seemed a little unwilling to kiss him, turning her head to the side just slightly whenever he tried, and he recalled she had serious contentions with what she called "morning breath".

No matter. He certainly did not need to kiss her to get what he wanted, and from the slickness he found between her thighs, neither did she. He smirked at her sharp intake of breath when he slipped a thumb inside, quite pleased to find her so receptive first thing in the morning.

"Did you have pleasant dreams?" he murmured against her hair, toying with her just gently enough to make her moan.

"Oh, just the best…"

He chuckled; it was difficult _not_ to get a boost in one's self-confidence when someone was clearly so appreciative of one's bedroom skills. Loki was also infinitely pleased that he had worked out most of her triggers earlier on in their relationship, knowing most of the places where he ought to linger, tease, or only apply the gentlest of pressures in order to make her squirm in ecstasy. Judging by the way her hands fisted the pillow, her lips slightly parted and eyes pressed shut, this morning would be no different than any other time, though his need for satisfaction quickly overpowered his desire to take his time with her.

With that in mind, he pulled out of her, fingers sticky with arousal, and yanked the covers back; if he could, he always wanted to see her legs. She began to turn onto her back, but before she could get very far, he grasped her hips and firmly rolled her onto his stomach. Now, he knew that not every woman would be comfortable with that particular position, having had several very vocal objections in the past, and he lingered for a moment on his knees, nestled between her long legs. He let himself dance the tips of his fingers along her calves, swirling upward to her thighs, and he grinned when he saw her skin prickle. Yet still, he waited and waited, until Max finally glanced over her shoulder at him, both eyebrows up and a sly smile on her lips.

There. That was what he needed. He took her firmly by the hips, and then hoisted her onto her knees as she propped herself up by her elbows, once again pleased with his situation. If he had been dealing with some virginal, inexperienced girl, he knew he wouldn't have been able to get away with any of his desires. She wasn't the most practiced woman he had ever been with, but she suited him just fine.

"This shirt is far too big for you," he commented absently, toying with the fabric of his shirt with one hand as the other slid his undergarment down. He gave himself a stroke for good measure, though it was hardly needed.

"Maybe you should have taken it off?" she mused, shooting him another look over her shoulder. He cocked his head to the side, smirking at her, and then shook his head as he grabbed a hold of her hips again.

"No," Loki insisted. He then filled her in a single thrust, which earned him a surprised cry from his lover. He clenched his teeth together, having temporarily forgotten just how good she felt, and tried not to add more spots to her already bruised hips. When he knew that the sound she made hadn't come from a pained place, he tried to focus enough to get the rest of his quip out. "I like it where it is…"

Not necessarily as debonair as he had thought it might be, but as he pulled out completely and pushed into her again, right down to the hilt, he assumed the line had worked. He started slow, cursing this feeble body for having absolutely no stamina, and soon realized he wasn't going to manage even half the time he had lasted the previous night. His pace sharpened, each thrust hard and pointed against her, and her little breathy squeaks and incoherent words only made things worse.

Well, not worse – technically her vocalizations made everything immeasurably _better_, but worse for his endurance. It seemed that all the odds were against him anyway, as she felt even tighter now than she had before, and shortly after they started, Max was already clenching urgently around him. Ridiculous woman.

He licked his lips, desperately willing himself to endure longer than some fumbling boy, but it seemed that once again humanity had gotten the better of him. When she shifted her legs closer together, her back arched forward and head thrown back, he nearly lost himself – so dreadfully close, and it seemed as though they had barely started. He tried to take his mind off of the situation at hand, ignoring the way her hair begged for him to yank on it to expose her neck, which would be perfect for nibbling on…

Damn it.

He glared upward, mentally cursing every inch of human flesh upon him, and then leaned forward slightly to rest a hand against the wall. Max had begun meeting his thrusts with eager movements of her own, pushing her body back greedily each time he slammed against her. He then sent his spare hand to roam down the warm skin of her back, pushing beneath the fabric of his borrowed shirt and stopping when he reached the base of her neck.

Unfortunately, he lost himself with she whimpered his name weakly, and his hand tightened in a clump of her hair as his pace came an abrupt halt, every muscle in his body spasming beyond his control. For a moment, the world was a haze, and all he could feel were the little ripples of pleasure shooting throughout his limbs. A groan caught in his throat when she clenched around him, purposefully prolonging the feeling, and he somehow managed to hiss her name.

When clarity resumed, he realized he had inadvertently shoved her face down into the bed, and he eased up on his grip for the sake of her breathing capabilities. He wished he could have lasted longer. Lovemaking had always been such an extravagant affair, one in which he and a woman could waste the hours away together, and yet he figured this tryst hadn't last more than ten minutes.

It was pathetic. _He_ was pathetic.

Max moaned faintly as he pulled out of her, and then rolled onto her side with a sigh. He could only imagine the critique to follow, accompanied by a few uncomfortable comments here and there, and therefore kept his eyes averted as he situated himself back against the headboard of the messy bed. If only his head could have been clearer in the aftermath of fornication; as if finishing too early wasn't bad enough, Loki found that his entire body seemed out of commission for a good twenty minutes after he reached a climax, whether with someone or on his own. This was _not_ conducive for defending his terrible stamina to her – at all.

He arched an eyebrow when he spotted her smiling contentedly, an arm curved up for her head to rest on. Her other hand found a spot on his knee, thumb casually stroking the still sensitive flesh at the start of his thigh, and she let out a little giggle.

"Don't get used to that," she insisted suddenly, which only made his frown deepen. "Morning sex is a treat that I definitely don't give out all that often."

He noticed her cheeks flush when their eyes met, and he simply blinked down at her in stupid disbelief. _That_ was all that she had to say to him? His head seemed to move on its own accord, nodding as she gazed up at him. "Noted."

"Not that I didn't enjoy myself," she said quickly, seeming to fumble over her words a little. "I just don't… That's… Yeah, that's me. I'm an… afternoon-delight type of girl."

Loki hadn't the slightest idea what that even meant, but he assumed it had something to do with preferring sex in the afternoon – that was the logical deduction anyway. However, he quickly noticed her becoming embarrassed, spying the way she tensed and fidgeted, and he tried to sweep the feeling away by combing her hair behind her shoulders. She stayed still for a moment, eyes shut as he stroked her cheek, and when he pulled back, it seemed as though the slight mortification had disappeared.

Not that he could understand what _she_ had to fret over, but it seemed there were still a number of things about this woman that he couldn't quite understand.

"I'm gonna jump in the shower quickly," she told him after a few long moments of silence, and she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before scuttling off to the bathroom.

When he heard the door shut behind her, he shot himself a quick glance in the mirror and wondered if he always looked this dumbfounded when they were together.

* * *

Max stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, her head wrapped in a fluffy white hotel towel, and then rolled her eyes. Afternoon-delight type of girl? _Ugh_. Where the hell did that come from, and why did it have to come out of her mouth? Luckily for her, the reference seemed to fly right over Loki's head, and she hoped he may just let it go with minimal teasing later.

That morning hadn't gone at all how she anticipated it would go. Mostly, Max assumed they would get up, go to breakfast, and then awkwardly avoid their necessary discussions for the rest of the day. Then, sometime later, Max would corner him and demand they speak about what had transpired, after which she would discover Loki was too drunk to even remember what he had done, and everything would shoot to Hell. Well, perhaps not quite _that_ terrible, but she definitely hadn't expected to be awoken by her roommate with a quick snuggle, leading right into morning sex, which she was actually completely fine with.

It wasn't necessarily her favourite thing ever; she had had a boyfriend in the past who loved to start the day off with sex, but it wasn't really Max's deal. Their breath was always bad, and she was generally stiff from a restless night of sleeping in a bed that was slightly too small with another person taking up most of the space. Today, however, she woke up feeling quite relaxed; since there were two quilts between them, it seemed neither had hogged the blankets, and it was a minor victory when she discovered Loki wasn't the type to snore.

Just as it had been previously, the sex was good; no, the sex was probably just a little bit better than good, especially for the morning. It went on for just the right amount of time, and if they had gone on any longer, she may have had to take matters into her own hands – potentially literally. She knew there wasn't going to be an end for her, even with Loki's skilled digits, which meant that if it dragged on too long, the sex stopped being fun and started to feel like a chore.

Even if the morning had been enjoyable thus far, Max still knew there was a chance it could go downhill if the situation wasn't handled properly. As she traced over some of the faded bite-marks on her shoulders, she tried to formulate the speech she planned to use on him. They had done the deed that Max usually never did unless she was in a relationship, and as right as it felt, she couldn't let it happen again unless they were _something_. Even a tentative something was better than nothing at this point, and she was sure he would realize that.

Well. Hopefully. This could all still go very wrong.

After assessing the hickey situation – nothing too noticeable – and quickly popping in a birth control pill before she forgot, Max wrapped herself in another white towel, and then stepped out of the steamy bathroom. She spied Loki seated on the window ledge, dressed to the nines in his boxers as he fiddled with his cell phone. He glanced up at her immediately and then raised an eyebrow at her.

"Did you use all the towels?"

"_No_," she snapped, unable to keep the smile from her face as he slid off the ledge and tossed his phone on their modified bed. "There's still one left."

"So generous of you," he remarked, crouching down just enough to wrap his arms around her waist. She squealed a little as he hoisted her up, their lips meeting for their first real kiss of the morning before he dumped her on the bed. The jostle ended up loosening the towel in her hair, and she kicked at the back of his legs as he sauntered away, which made him laugh. He then darted into the bathroom, and shortly after she heard the shower start up.

This was good. They were good. She swallowed thickly and then sat up, pushing the towel completely off her head and combing her fingers through her wet, matted hair. It was easy for her mind to run from situation to situation, playing out all of their options over and over again for her on a continuous loop. Some were good with happy endings, whereas others finished with her looking for a new roommate; all of them consisted of her speaking with Loki about what had happened, and as she changed into a comfortable sweater and her oldest pair of jeans, she decided it needed to happen sooner rather than later.

By the time Loki finished in the shower, Max was nearly done blow-drying her hair, and they exchanged a brief smile when he emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. She continued to dry her hair, preferring to give him a minute or two to get dressed for the day. Once the lengthy process of taming her thick hair was complete, she unplugged the machine, wrapped the cord neatly, and then set it on the desk. Loki had opted for a sweater as well, but paired it with a fresh set of boxers; apparently, he had no intention of leaving the room just yet.

"Okay, so," she started, turning back to face him, hands clasped together in front of her. "Can we have a talk?"

The sigh he gave might have been considered dismissive, perhaps even weary, but the expression on his face indicated nothing of the sort. Instead, he patted the spot on the bed directly in front of him, and then cleared his throat. "Yes, let's get this over with."

"Well, we don't have to if you're going to be a dick about it," she snapped, cringing at the childish undertones it took. He shot her a look.

"Max," he said stiffly. "I'm _very_ hungry, and it's becoming a bit of a distraction. Sit and tell me what you need to say, and then we're getting breakfast."

She pursed her lips, unable to figure out what to make of him at the moment, and then hesitantly crawled onto the bed. Sitting cross-legged in front of him, she tucked her hair behind both ears, and then took a deep breath.

"So, you know I don't do this… stuff unless I'm seeing the guy," she began, and he leaned his head back against the headrest, staring at her down the tip of his nose. "And now I've done it twice, so I'm kind of being a hypocrite… So we either need to start seeing each other, or we need to figure something out, because we clearly can't live together without… doing… stuff."

"Eloquent as always."

She smacked his leg, which made them both laugh, and in the process she felt some of her nerves faze out.

"So?" She fiddled with a loose string on the seam of her jeans. "What do you think?"

He gave her a hard stare, and then sighed again – she was getting sick of the sighing.

"I think," Loki started, straightening up and reaching out to take her hand, "that we should be… something. Feel free to tell people we are, if you'd like. I think at this point, it's the right thing to do. So, if you'll have me, I'm all yours."

She nibbled on her lower lip as she carefully dissected everything that he had said. It started off well, the middle was a little confusing, and ended perfectly. However, she couldn't simply let the middle bit slide because she had gotten what she wanted with minimal discussion.

"What… What do you mean _it's the right thing to do_?"

He shrugged. "Well, we have… slept together twice now. It seems irresponsible and rude of me to deny you any longer."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, "but what? I want you to be with me because you _want_ to be, not for some… weird… entirely out-of-date sense of morality."

Her cheeks prickled when they coloured, but she knew the root cause of it stemmed from irritation rather than embarrassment. Did he expect some sort of shot-gun wedding at the end of this because they spent the night together? How fucking kind of him.

She opened her mouth to throw something else out there, another snarl at the ridiculous notion of responsibility, but stopped when he squeezed her hand.

"Max," he said sharply. "That is one of the _many_ reasons I would like to be with you. I simply thought it was the one that might… please you the most."

"Yeah, a little off the mark there," she scoffed, finally returning the pressure as she gripped his hand. "You could have just said I'm amazing and _of course_ you'd like to date me, but we'll try again later."

"I am _really_ hungry," he insisted, his tone laced an obviously false severity that made her laugh. She then leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, one hand ghosting along his jawline as they fell into an easy rhythm. Somehow, she ended up in his lap, her legs folded awkwardly on either side of his, and Loki was the one to break the kiss just as her hands started to wander. "Food?"

"I guess," she mused, nipping at his lower lip and then falling back before he could return the favour, teeth chomping at nothingness. "Let me see what everyone else is doing."

A quick tap on his phone screen showed that it was nearly eleven, which meant at least _someone_ had to be up and ready for a hotel buffet of eggs and bacon.

Or whatever else suited their hangovers.

"Put some shoes on, woman," Loki called as she started for the door. Max glanced down at her bare feet, and then shuffled back to her bag to dig out the slippers she had half-heartedly thrown in there. With those on, she blew Loki a cheeky kiss, and then disappeared out into the hallway.

The first stop on the tour, naturally, was Garret and Tiffany's room. Even if she had been fairly drunk when Max left, Tiffany had a tendency to rise at the crack of dawn after drinking, whether she was ready for it or not. Therefore, seeing as it was almost eleven, the duo had probably already been up for a few hours, and as Max raised a fist to their room's door, she hoped she wasn't interrupting anything too sensual. All worries were swept aside, however, when Garret opened the door with record speed, and she offered him a friendly grin.

"Hello, lovebird," he crooned, eyebrows bouncing on his forehead as he leaned on the door in a pair of white boxers and a grey t-shirt. She wrinkled her nose.

"Gross."

"You know," he said with a nod, straightening up and crossing his arms, "it felt wrong coming out of my mouth…" He trailed off as the sound of someone – most likely Tiffany – retching in the bathroom echoed behind him. Max's eyebrows shot up, and he nodded again, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "You know what else is gross?"

"A puking, hungover girlfriend?" Max offered, and she laughed as they high-fived.

"Ten points to Max!"

"House points?"

"Hufflepuffs don't get house points-"

"I'm not a Hufflepuff-"

"Garret!"

Their nerdy banter came to an end as Tiffany wailed for assistance, and he shot her a pained look.

"I'm needed elsewhere."

"Loki and I were going to go get breakfast, but we'll… we'll just leave you guys with that," she insisted. "Feel better, Tiff!"

"Max!" The woman's voice trailed out of the bathroom, and she leaned to the side to take a quick peak through the open door. She flinched back when Tiffany's head appeared out of nowhere, her make-up still caked on her eyes. "Tell me about what happened last night…"

"When you don't smell like vomit, we'll talk," Max told her. Right on cue, the word "vomit" resonated just enough to send the woman back into the bathroom, and Garret shot her a bit of a glare before shutting the door. Max leaned in toward the crack as she whispered, "Have fun!"

As she turned down the hall, she spotted something she had never expected to see first thing in the morning: Ben, still dressed in the same clothes as the night before, slipping quietly out of Erica's room. It took him a moment or so to realize it was her in the hallway, and he came to an abrupt halt halfway between his and Erica's rooms.

Max wasn't necessarily in the mood to speak with him, as he had been a bit annoying while she was trying to dance the night before, but the awkward tension had hung between them for too long at this point – turning away would have been rude.

"Hey," she greeted as warmly as she could, sauntering down the hall toward him. "Did you just… Did you just come out of Erica's room?"

He licked his lips slowly, and then nodded, his hands drifting into his pockets. "Uh… Yeah."

"Oh my God," she gasped, taking a few steps closer to get in on the gossip. "Did she and Corey hook up in your room?"

Who hooked up with who wasn't necessarily the central focus of her world right now, but she knew Ben always felt a little bit better about himself when he was the first to tell someone anything, even if the news wasn't juicy. However, when he scratched the back of his head and glanced back toward the direction he had come from, Max frowned.

"No, they… didn't."

"Then why were you in her room?" Max gave him a onceover, just to make sure she hadn't gotten his outfit from the previous night mixed up with his daywear. Nope, he definitely saved that sweater-vest for the bar. An idea struck her before he could reply, and she smirked. "Did you hook up with her friend? Fuck, what was her name again?"

"Molly?"

"Yeah, her."

"No, I didn't… hook up with Molly."

Her frown deepened, "Then why…" She planted her hands on her hips, the idea too ridiculous for her to even articulate right away. "Did you… Did you spend the night with Erica?" Her jaw dropped when he gave a sheepish nod, and she smacked him with everything she had. "Ben!"

"What?" He huffed at her, blinking rapidly – a habit he did whenever he was flustered. "She was a lot of fun after you left last night."

"But it's _Erica_," she hissed. "We don't like her!"

"_You_ don't like her," he clarified heatedly, leaning forward as their voices dropped in volume. Clearly they were both, on some level, aware that the other hotel guests had no desire to listen to them fight. "I don't mind her."

Max sputtered, and then rolled her eyes. "Bullshit, you do not!"

"Well, that's not really up for you to decide, is it?" He ran his hand through his hair, and then nodded down toward her room. "Did you… _you know_… with him?"

"That's not really any of your business."

"Oh, so my sex life is up for discussion, but yours isn't?"

"Well, my sex life doesn't end with me getting infected with _whatever_ I'm sure she has!" Max sneered, leaning back and sucking her cheeks in with displeasure. "Congratulations… You've basically fucked the entire male population of St. Judith's."

"Grow up, Max."

"_You_ grow up," she retorted, resisting the urge to poke her tongue out at him before storming off back down the hallway. She turned just before she made it back to her room and spotted him standing in the same spot where she had left him, and she threw her arms up. "Erica? Really?!"

Ben was the first to disappear back into his room, slamming the door noisily behind him, and Max followed shortly after. When she returned, still fuming at the recently learnt information, she found Loki on his cell phone, which was even more perplexing than Ben fucking Erica. He held up a long finger when their eyes met, and Max clambered onto the bed to rest against the headboard, limbs still a quiver with anger. True to his word, Loki was only on the phone for another minute or so, speaking in hushed tones that Max didn't pay particular attention to.

"What's the matter?"

"Ben slept with Erica," Max told him as she stared out the nearest window, her gaze unfocused. "_Fucking_ Erica."

"That's… unfortunate," Loki offered. He crawled across the bed and wrapped himself around her midsection, head resting against her chest. "Food?"

"Ugh, it gives me shivers just _thinking_ about it," she grumbled, shaking dramatically for effect. It took her a moment or so to notice him shooting her a bit of a pointed look, and she cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"I need to eat, or I'll start eating you."

She laughed, and then gave him a sharp poke to the ribs. "That sounds tempting."

"_Max_."

"Okay, okay," she sighed, running her hands through his hair before planting a quick kiss atop his head. "Room service?"

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**WELL HELLO. I apologize for the lengthy delay in updates, but after the last one my wrists were pretty much done for, and I needed to take a break. I've updated another story or two in the meantime, since I can handle shorter chapters for them, and plugged away at this one for a little while. I'm a bit better now, but still taking it easy. Much thanks to all those who expressed their best wishes in the reviews!**

**NOW. ONWARD AND OUTWARD. **

**I think what I liked most about this chapter is that no one has any idea what the other people are thinking, and they are all making assumptions that are a bit off. It's fun for me, and I'd like to think it's fun for you guys as readers to be like, "DUDE WTF ARE YOU DOING?" all the while knowing someone else is thinking something different… I dunno. Rambling. **

**The sex scene wasn't initially like the final product. It was just going to be a fun, feel-good scene. However, as I got to writing it from Loki's POV, I had all these insecurities pop up around him, and that seemed to be the route I wanted to go. He's a bit of a hot mess still – not sure if you've noticed. I'll also let you make your own assumptions about Max's rage-quit conversation with Ben, which was a lot of fun to write, even if it was short. **

**Also, Garret and Max are secret Harry Potter nerds. Don't judge them. Garret is also a Hufflepuff, he just won't admit it. **

**So. I make bullet-points on a document for all the ideas I have for future chapters, and I cross them out as I go along. I've redone my ending for the story overall slightly, and with that in mind, I have 31 bullet-points left. Meep. I will obviously combine a few, since they are just ideas that won't make much of a chapter… but I think it's safe to say we're about halfway through the story at this point. **

**MUCH LOVE FOR ALL THE SUPPORT! YOU GUYS MAKE MY WORLD SPIN IN A FANTASTIC WAY. **


	39. Requirements for Successful Manipulation

"Max…"

She quirked an eyebrow in the mirror when she heard Loki call for her from the room, but continued applying her mascara, knowing full well what he was whining about.

"What?"

"Do I _really_ have to wear this?"

"I bought it just for you," she insisted, trying to keep her voice genuine – it would have been so easy to laugh at his situation. "Don't you like it?"

Of course he didn't like it. That morning, Tiffany and Max had ventured down to one of the little indoor craft markets the town was hosting at a nearby gym, in which Max purchased the most hideous gift she had ever seen for her new significant other.

Both women were getting a little stir-crazy after spending two days in the hotel, with their nights consisting of club beats and booze and their days spent on recovery in bed, and they needed a bit of a breather from the rest of the group. Loki and Garret certainly weren't the problem; Max had taken just about all she could of Ben and Erica flaunting what appeared to be a random, budding relationship, and she needed a break from the tension between her and Ben. Loki was a nice distraction, naturally, but she also felt a little cooped up spending all day in bed with him. So, on the day before New Year's Eve, she literally jumped at Tiffany's suggestion over breakfast to head down to a local craft show.

No one else seemed particularly interested, and as she and Tiff piled into her car, Loki disappeared to his room to get some of his impending assignments done, and the rest of the group made use of the hotel's gym facilities. The break had been just what she needed to finally fill her friend in on everything that had happened between her and Loki. Tiffany, like everyone else in the group, assumed they were dating, but still played the part of excited and shocked companion when Max broke the news officially.

Not all that much had changed between them since they decided to make their flirtation "official", but it certainly made sleeping with him a little easier.

Not that it was ever _difficult_, but she stopped feeling like a hypocrite. Besides, Loki seemed perfectly happy to throw his arm around the back of her chair when they had shared meals with everyone else, and he was the one who tugged her onto his lap while they were at the bar – their status was probably pretty apparent, whether they announced it or not.

Now, at said craft show, Max and Tiffany found some _the_ most horrible pieces of homemade outerwear that they had ever seen. There were not only outrageous colours, but a plethora of obnoxious pom-poms, weird tails trailing down from hats, and mittens that looked like deformed woodland creatures. Max's favourite, however, was the neon green scarf with bunny heads at either end, complete with googly eyes and pink button noses. The duo had been very tactful with their comments, as most of the creators of said garments were seated in lawn chairs behind their work, but that scarf was the one that Max gushed over the most.

She made a passing joke about buying it for Loki, and Tiffany made a wager that she'd never be able to get him to wear it. A limit of twenty dollars was made, and the pair shook on it; Max then purchased said horrible scarf in all its thick, wool glory, had it specially wrapped, and presented it to Loki shortly after she arrived back at the hotel. As expected, he was horrified at the gift, but Max did her best to pretend it was the most wonderful thing she had seen, and she immediately thought of him when she saw the green – you know, his lovely eyes and all. She had to give him credit; he lied through his teeth, telling her what a nice gesture it was, and folded the scarf neatly atop his luggage.

He probably never thought she would actually make him wear it.

"Oh, you know I _like_ it." Max smirked as he carried on, no doubt weighing each word carefully. "But what if I should… accidentally spill something on it? I don't want to … ruin it."

"Well, we can always wash it," she insisted. She then popped her mascara wand back into the bottle and tossed the thing in her make-up bag. One final hair fluffing signified the end of her fairly basic beauty regiment, and she gave herself one last onceover before switching off the bathroom light.

Max found him standing in front of the mirror, dressed in a smart pair of dark jeans and a black sweater and holding that hideous scarf out in front of him as though it were diseased. She folded her arms across her chest when he glanced at her, and she tried desperately to hide the grin as his expression softened.

"Why don't I save it for later?" he suggested hopefully, and she shook her head.

"But it looks so good with your outfit!"

He scoffed softly as she sauntered forward, and she noticed the slight slump in his shoulders when she took the scarf from him. Even if they weren't dating, she assumed he would have at least attempted to spare her "feelings" before informing her exactly what he thought about her gift, and for that she figured she could let him in on her secret.

"Here's a thought…" He held up his hands, ready to propose another careful attempt to dissuade her from forcing him into the garment, but Max cut him off before he could get anything out.

"Tiffany bet me twenty bucks I couldn't get you to wear it," she insisted cheekily, wrapping the awful thing around his neck a few times. "I'll buy you lunch with my winnings."

"Why must I suffer for _your_ winnings?"

"Oh, but you look so cute," Max laughed as she held up one of the bunny head-ends to his eyelevel. "Don't you want to show your widdle wabbit to the world?"

He smacked her hand away, eyes narrowing. "So this isn't a serious gift?"

"God no," she insisted playfully, tugging on both of the bunny heads before standing up on her toes to kiss his nose. "You're just a passive participant in my twisted little game."

"You're lucky I like you."

"I know." She shot him a wink before turning away in search of her jacket, which she eventually found beneath a pile of yesterday's clothing near the bathroom. Although neither she nor Loki were particularly messy individuals, it seemed that they had forgone all necessary tidiness while they were at the hotel. A cleaner came in every morning to make their bed and clean here and there, and that seemed good enough for both of them.

It was going to be a pain to pack, however, and that was something Max definitely wasn't looking forward to. They had an early check-out on the first day of the New Year, which meant packing would be done in a post-drunk haze, and possibly in the midst of a blinding headache; Max predicted that everything about that day was going to be terrible, including the four hour drive back to Masonville.

Today, however, those thoughts ought to be far from her mind. Tiffany had been pestering the collective group since they arrived to try out the frozen lake behind the hotel, as it seemed perfectly smoothed over for a little outdoor skating, and finally the group conceded. As she anticipated, Loki seemed less than impressed with the whole notion of skating as a pastime, but as usual, it took very little cajoling to get him onboard with the idea. Max wasn't overly thrilled to put on five layers of clothes to go skate around on a frozen pond either, but everyone else seemed pretty pleased with the plan for the day, so she kept her griping to herself.

Besides, from what she had seen, there was some kind of snack shack or pond-side bar nearby, and if skating became too tedious, a nice warm cup of something always made the time go by faster. This was also the first time that Loki had actually left the hotel and breathed outdoor air since they arrived, and she figured it would be good for his sanity to spend some time outside. He hadn't seemed cooped up, but there were times when she wondered if he might be getting a little bored when they had spent almost two days in bed.

Once they were both adequately dressed, Max took him by the hand, their gloved fingers intertwined, and they exited out into the hallway. As they passed Garret and Tiff's door, Max heard the vague sound of something unlocking, and she glanced back to see their door open, followed quickly by the sound of their voices. She smiled, partially relieved she wouldn't have to wait with the rest of the group without her shield present.

Yes, it was completely and utterly petty to use either Garret or Tiffany as a barrier between her and Ben, and by extension Erica, but they hadn't had a chance to bury the hatchet yet, and things were still tense. Max wanted to talk, to possibly apologize for her mild overreaction to Ben's night with the woman she had an intense disliking for, but for now it seemed they were both too stubborn to even make eye-contact, so it seemed that would have to wait.

"Hey," Tiffany greeted as Garret locked the door behind her. "You guys ready to… Oh my god."

Max smirked when she saw her friend eyeing the horrible neon green poking out around Loki's neck, the worst of it hidden beneath his jacket, and then cocked an eyebrow. The woman begrudgingly reached into her purse, rifling through for a moment as Garret joined them.

"Wow," he started, frowning a little when he no doubt also spotted Loki's scarf. "That's… bright."

"It was a gift," Loki remarked tightly. Tiffany let out a giggle as Max tucked her crisp new twenty-dollar bill into her pocket, and then shot him an innocent look when a pair of green eyes narrowed at her. "Can I take it off now?"

"No," she quipped, taking his hand once more and tugging him toward the elevators. "It was a _gift_."

He grumbled something softly as she pushed the white round button, which lit up on contact. Meanwhile, Garret had taken to assuring Loki that his gift definitely wasn't the worst in the bunch.

"You want to see what Tiff's mom got me for Christmas?"

"Garret," Tiffany chided as he unzipped his coat. "She worked really hard on that."

Max's eyebrows shot up when she saw one of the worst holiday sweaters she had ever seen, complete with randomly sized buttons and a zipper that went horizontally across his chest, seemingly serving no function at all. She exchanged a quick look with Loki, who seemed even more put off by the sweater than he had by the scarf.

"Oh, that's awful."

"No, it's not," Tiffany snapped, shooting Max a bit of a glare as she zipped Garret's coat back up. "It's festive."

"It's really warm," Garret admitted lamely with a shrug. "Good for… spending the day outside."

"I like my scarf," Loki muttered as the elevator doors opened. She gave his hand a squeeze, and then quickly hurried inside, smiling at the way his breath tickled her ear. "I don't ever have to wear it again, do I?"

"No, I suppose you're off the hook."

"Good."

Before the doors could close completely, an arm snaked through, startling the group, and she quickly stepped to one side as Ben and Corey hurried in.

"Hey guys." It was Ben who spoke first, and Max offered the briefest of smiles when his eyes drifted toward her. However, they both quickly looked away as her friend situated himself at the other side of the boxy elevator.

"Where are the girls?" Garret asked, the lack of noise fairly apparent without Erica and Molly present.

"Oh, they weren't ready to go yet," Corey said as the elevator came to a bouncy stop on the ground floor. "They said they'd just meet us out there."

"Cool."

The group exited to one side as a family with four kids rushed on at the other, and once they were in the lobby, they seemed to easily split off into pairs. Max and Loki made up the rear, walking hand-in-hand through the gaudy hotel lobby toward a large set of glass doors that exited out into the outdoor facilities.

"So," she started, breaking their contact for the briefest of moments in order to zip up her coat, and then quickly slipping her hand back into his, "are you some sort of secret skating wizard by any chance?"

He chuckled, and then shook his head when she glanced up at him. "I'm afraid not."

"There's a surprise."

"That's uncalled for," he insisted lightly, holding open the door for her, and then lingering as an elderly couple clad in matching snowsuits followed. She grinned at him once he was back at her side. "I happen to be skilled at many things… Wearing blades and pushing myself around on a patch of ice isn't exactly a talent I sought to perfect in my life."

"Touchy," she teased, kicking up a small pile of snow as they sauntered along the cobblestone path. "I'm actually pretty awful at it, so we'll be evenly matched."

"Why are we doing this if we're both terrible?"

"Because it's winter," she told him, "and we do stupid winter things when it's winter… Skating is one of them."

"Ah, yes, that makes perfect sense." She shot him a look, though she knew he had a point.

They followed Tiffany and Garret toward the skate rental shack, which appeared to be located just on the cusp of the pond. She spied the cantina on the other side, which seemed pretty full – and rightly so, as it was nearly lunch time – and emitted a neatly swirling stack of smoke. The pond was definitely sized somewhere between a lake and a pond, as it was large enough to house a binch of skaters and their families, all keen on making the most of a wonderfully sunny, though quite chilly, winter day. The treeline beyond the pond was sparse and scattered, littered with mammoth, leaf-less trees and filled with children carrying sleds and tumbling down the cleared pathways.

It was a cute little spot, and as they waited in line, Loki casually chatting with Garret and Tiffany clacking away on her phone, Max experienced a fleeting moment where she wished she was _only_ there with Loki. The moment passed, however, and when she zoned back into reality, she realized she had been staring through Garret and Tiffany's heads and directly at Ben. He caught her just as she became aware of what she had been doing, and Max hastily busied herself with the conversation around her as though it hadn't happened.

Ugh – apparently random pimples weren't the only thing she hadn't left behind in high school. Shaking her head, she snatched up Loki's hand again, which had somehow slipped from hers as they moved along in the line, and he placed a quick kiss to her temple when the others had turned away.

After Garret and Tiffany had sorted out their skates, Max was up, opting out of the pink option that her friend had taken. Instead, she went with a rather beat-up looking pair of white women's skates, and ordered a massive pair of black ones for Loki's giant feet. Unfortunately, the twenty she had earned from winning her bet with Tiff ended up paying for both skates, but she still promised to buy something for Loki at the snack shack when they had finished their day on the ice.

Tiffany made a bit of a stink about leaving her fairly expensive boots just sitting on the group's bench while they all went for a skate, particularly when the hotel claimed no responsibility for stolen property, but once they had persuaded her to just hope for the best, they finally moved on. Max quickly slipped into her skates, memories of school skating trips and birthdays at ice rinks flashing back as she finished looping the lengthy laces around her ankles. Loki, to nobody's surprise, was the last to get his gear on, and as she watched Ben and Corey make a wobbly start on the ice nearby, Max vaguely heard her roommate cursing over the length of his "infernal strings".

"Here," she chuckled, kneeling down in front of him and batting his hands away. "Let me do it."

It made her knees wet in the process, but she didn't particularly care – the way he gazed down at her as she masterfully looped each string around and through its hole made up for the damp jeans. A blush crept up to her cheeks as she carried on, attempting to appear as though she didn't notice his brazen stare. She did, however, lean in to his touch when the tips of his gloved fingers trailed down her cheek, and she shot him a smirk.

"Why don't we just go back upstairs?" The suggestion came out as a purr, one that did nothing to abate the colour in her cheeks. Max smacked his knee, finished with his skates, and then held out her hands expectantly. He rolled his eyes, and then quickly helped her to her feet, after which Max did the same.

They were both pretty wobbly on their feet, and even though she enjoyed holding his hand, this time it was necessary to keep their balance as they tried to teeter toward the ice. Garret and Tiffany seemed lost in their own little world, floating by gracefully with an arm around one another. Meanwhile, Corey and Ben seemed to be stuck in a competition of who could kick up the most ice while simultaneously avoiding the gangs of little children whipping by. In the distance, Max spied Erica and Molly exiting the hotel, and she sighed.

"Okay, we can do this," she muttered once all of their feet were officially on the ice. "Just… try to lean forward and you'll stay up."

"That seems counterintuitive," Loki told her, his legs stick straight as they clutched at one another's forearms, Max the wobblier of the two. "This doesn't seem like an enjoyable sport, Max."

"Well, we haven't really done much of it yet," she said quickly, and then let out a squeal as she started to tip backward. She clung to him instead, which seemed to throw him off-balance just enough to make him panic; nostrils flared and eyes wide, Loki scrambled to stay up.

In that moment, a little girl dressed in a puffy green snowsuit inched by them, more or less running on the ice rather than skating. She seemed blissfully happy, a wide grin on her face and arms outstretched. However, the moment quickly passed, and suddenly she was falling forward, arms useless as she face-planted into the ice. Her dad was there seconds later, but the damage was done, and both Loki and Max watched the man haul the screaming toddler toward the side of the pond, a little puddle of blood left behind as a painful reminder to use your fucking hands.

"Fuck it, this was a stupid idea," Max insisted. Unfortunately, in their scrambling to stay up, the duo had somehow pushed themselves farther and farther away from the cleared edge of the pond. Loki grimaced as a pair of teenagers whizzed by them, and she took a deep breath. Carefully – very carefully – and with a lot of concentration, Max let go of one of his arms, and then eased over to his side.

"This is ridiculous," Loki grumbled softly. "I've raced the ice planes of Jotunh-" He stopped when Max glanced up at him, her eyebrows knitted together, and then shook his head. "It seems silly that two grown adults cannot master a simple task. Come along, we can do this… At least a lap."

"Mr. Optimistic over here," she chuckled. "What were you saying before?"

"Nothing… Just complaining to myself."

"Ah."

Slowly, the two started to push themselves along, clutching their hands together as they eventually made their way into the circle reserved for slower skaters. Others raced by, but once they found a rhythm, Max was pleased to see that they had managed to stay up.

Unfortunately, that optimism floundered when her left skate hit the ice funny, perhaps sticking in a groove, and she tumbled down, squealing again and clinging to Loki. He managed to catch her before she actually collided with the ice, but all the movement seemed to make him a little unsteady, and they were forced to stand there in limbo while he regained his footing – only then could he start to pull her up.

"Oh, Max!"

She ground her teeth together as Erica's voice sounded behind her. The girl skated up, moving with such ease and fluidity that it was maddening. Her skates cut crisply across the ice as she paused in front of them, looking cute in her black leggings and fashionable navy jacket, and then threw her hair over her shoulder.

"Try to not look down at your feet," she offered, skating backwards as she spoke. "I found that helped when I was first starting out."

"Thanks," Max remarked tightly, her knees shaking once she was finally upright. Loki winced as she dug her fingertips sharply into the palm of his hand. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll get there," the woman told her brightly. "It just takes some time and practice!"

With a smile and a shrug, she was gone, blitzing across the pond to Ben's side. Max bit the insides of her cheeks, and then gingerly started to move forward again.

"I think I'm going to kill her."

She heard Loki laugh. "I may be able to offer some assistance there…"

"I mean, that was _clearly_ fake-nice, wasn't it?" He shrugged when she stared up at him, and she huffed irritably. "I bet Ben told her to try so I'd approve or something."

"Hmm."

"Not that I _need_ to approve of anything," she carried on, only half aware that Loki didn't seem particularly interested in the conversation. "I mean, he can sleep with whoever he wants, but he _knows_ my issues with Erica, and he had the nerve to tell me she was this… alright person, and she isn't."

"Right." Max shot him a bit of a pointed look, and he cleared his throat once he spotted it. "What? I'm listening." She quirked an eyebrow. "I am!"

She nodded. "Right."

"Fine, here are my thoughts," he ground out. They both paused as they slowly tackled a curve in the pond together, careful not to wipe out. Once they had cleared that obstacle, he spoke again. "You're frustrated with Ben, but are you quite sure that frustration does not stem from your dislike for the woman he's with? Does he deserve your ire?"

"Why can't you talk like a normal person?" She laughed when his eyebrows shot up, seemingly scandalized, and she shrugged. "I dunno… Ben's been getting on my nerves these days."

"Why?"

"Well, aside from the attitude I got the other morning," she started, ticking off the incidents with her free hand. "He texted me like… a million times while I was in Cancun wanting to talk, and then basically said nothing to me until we were both drinking. And then when he finally does talk to me," she paused for a breath, "he just wants to rag on you."

"Excuse me?"

"And I get that you two have your issues, whatever," she carried on, waving the notion aside as they puttered along, "but that's not what I want to hear. I don't really want to deal with it."

"What did he say about me?"

She glanced up at him, and then wrinkled her nose, trying to recall the conversation. "Something about lying and Stark… Do you know a Stark?"

He frowned at her for a moment, and then looked across the pond at Ben. His expression seemed temporarily unreadable, but when she tightened her grip on his hand, he seemed to return to normal.

"I know _of_ a Tony Stark," he told her lightly, "but I think we all do."

"Yeah, I guess," she said absently.

She knew of Tony Stark as well, but barely anything worth noting – she wasn't quite the news junkie Loki was, though she did recall he had played a part in a few scandals over the years. There was something else, something at the tip of her tongue that she couldn't quite remember. Hell, she couldn't even remember what he looked like.

Wait. Wasn't he Iron Man? She quickly looked at Loki, and then her eyes darted off toward Ben; as if Loki knew Iron Man. Loki didn't even know who Taylor Swift was, so it seemed unlikely that he _personally_ knew anyone even remotely famous.

"Here's what I suggest," Loki started, pulling her away from her musings. "For the sake of your friendship, perhaps you two should spend some time apart. You're clearly upset with him, and I think anything you two do together right now will only make it worse."

"What are you, a Cosmo columnist?" she asked with a grin. She then pulled her hand from his and slid it around his waist, suddenly preferring the closeness. "I think you make a pretty valid point though."

Loki grinned. "Take a break… Some time away from one another may soothe your temper, and then you can hear him out. Until then, I suggest you keep your distance. Offer to talk once you're both calm."

She nodded, but before she could say anything further, her feet decided to give her a giant middle finger and slid out in random directions. The whole embarrassing incident ended with her on all fours on the ice, wrists screaming at the trauma. Loki chuckled as he tried to help her to her feet, though just as before, the movement left him struggling to stay up.

"Just get back up, Max!"

"Oh my god, I'm going to murder her," she growled. Erica skated by with Ben at her side, and the woman held two thumbs up for her as Max scrambled to her feet.

"You got this, girl!"

"And I'm done with skating," she grumbled. "Let's just get lunch."

Unfortunately, getting lunch proved to be more difficult than she anticipated, and her frustration resulted in a lack of concentration, which resulted in two more almost-spills before she made it off the ice. All the issues with the day, however, were forgotten when they returned to their room, in which he pushed her up against the door and fucked her without a care for who could hear.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Oh hai new reviewers and followers and everything. Welcome!**

**So this chapter stems a bit from my own background in skating… and being terrible at it. My childhood consisted of living in a really small Canadian town, and if we weren't going bowling for a school trip, it was off to the ice rink. Oh? It's your kid's birthday? Here, do it at the ice rink! Summer camp adventures? Look! An ice rink indoors! Fuck. All that childhood practice, and I still need someone to just pull me around the ice and hope I don't crack my skull open. Or fall and get a skate to the neck. Or something gruesome. Anyway. **

**I was scrolling through my Loki tag on my tumblr, and there's a gif of him walking by Bruce with all his security bros flanking around him, and Bruce takes his glasses off to rub his eyes. The comment with it, I believe, is – **_**Loki's manipulating you**_**. In my head, it's all sing-song and devious, and that's sort of how I felt toward Max and Loki's interactions in this chapter. Bit of manipulation on both sides, but Loki's still headman for that category. The title of the chapter comes from psychologist and author George K. Simon, in which the requirements for manipulation on the part of the manipulator include:  
**

_*** Concealing aggressive intentions and behaviors.**_

_*** Knowing the psychological vulnerabilities of the victim to determine what tactics are likely to be the most effective.**_

_*** Having a sufficient level of ruthlessness to have no qualms about causing harm to the victim if necessary**_

**Thanks for getting it all concise for me, Wikipedia. The more you know...**

**So, the next chapter will be a doozy – it's New Year's Eve, and every character in the story will be in it. Not necessarily together, but you'll get to see a snippet of everyone's festivities in regards to welcoming in the upcoming year. I can't decide if I want to do detailed sections that are fairly long, or just brief glimpses into what the night involves for each party… I'll need to think on that. **

**Much love for all the support, and for those who give me something to read with each new update. You're all wonderful!**


	40. Baby, you're a New Year's firework

Indecision. Natasha had yet to make up her mind about Bangkok. She had been there for well over a month and a half, and there were various qualities about the city she both intensely liked and loathed. The food was delicious, and thus far, she and Clint had managed to have dinner at a different restaurant each night with no repeats. Naturally, "dinner" was a little bit of a subjective term, as they could sometimes be found enjoying a mammoth meal at around four in the afternoon or at four in the morning; they could always find a place to cater to their needs. An added bonus came with the price; her American and Russian bank accounts took her a long way with the excellent exchange rate, and she knew her salary for this assignment would make up for whatever she spent on her personal time.

She also enjoyed the people, who seemed to strike the proper balance between friendly and attentive, while also easily reading when she was in no mood for any sort of personal contact. Thirdly, she was happy to have Clint by her side again. She found that she did some of her best work with Barton urging her onward, and she knew he felt the same. The man was focused, intelligent, and always handy to have in a tricky situation. It also made dealing with the other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents much easier; Agent 22 was probably one of the biggest pain in the asses Natasha had ever worked with, and she would have put a bullet in his skull had Clint not been there to provide some stress release.

Unfortunately, that tied into the reasons she had a distinct disliking for the city as a whole. The weather only bordered on comfortable; if it wasn't raining, it was sticky and humid. There was absolutely no anonymity for a woman with bright red hair and pale skin, which meant the friendly smiles and waves of recognition anywhere she went were bound to out her sometime soon. However, the worst part about Bangkok was not actually the city itself, but the crew she was forced to work with. Natasha would never complain to anyone higher up about the lack of competence she faced; she was the type of woman to throw her shoulders back and deal with it rather than whine.

However, Agent 22 was the most intrusive, nosy, twitchy members of S.H.I.E.L.D. that she had had the unfortunate honour of working with, and she couldn't wait for the case to be done. The lab technicians he had flown in weren't much better; most were either too nervous to talk to her – not that she particularly wanted any of them to – or they had a very noticeable chauvinistic streak that grated on her nerves. Clint had also expressed his unease with them, remarking that they were unlike any company agents he had ever worked with, and fully intended to write them up once they had finished their assignment.

Unfortunately, an actual end to their assignment seemed to be in the very distant future. In Natasha's experience, these sorts of oddities were usually exposed and exterminated within a few weeks, especially if she and Clint were working the case. They got in, investigated, broke a few fingers, and then got out with their answers. However, after conferring secretly with one of the local police officials, they learned that none of the gangs in the city or the surrounding rural towns left a signature like the hollowed body they found, nor had there been any crimes in the past to fit that description. However, since they had arrived, two other bodies had surfaced, both emptied out and decaying.

Something felt off about them, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The lab technicians had basically claimed the rotted, empty corpses for their own, analyzing and dissecting bits and pieces under machines that Natasha knew very little about. She would have preferred to have an hour or two alone with the discoveries, possibly with Clint hovering in the shadows, in order to get a better feel for them, but just as she went through thorough security measures to keep Agent 22 out of her room, the technicians went to great lengths to keep all eyes from their work. There were no security cameras in the room, and the only way to gain access was through fingerprint recognition, and her prints had not been catalogued for access.

So, despite her instincts telling her otherwise, she left the handling of the bodies up to Agent 22 and his team as she and Clint roamed the streets of Bangkok at all hours of the day. They had made plans to head to some of the other larger cities in the country, including Nonthaburi and Pak Kret, in order to determine if the hollowing of bodies was strictly an urban phenomenon, or merely just a Bangkok incident. The pair had decided to leave in January, as there was too much action happening around the capitol for them to leave just yet.

Agent 22 had insisted they take the night off, arguing that it was New Year's Eve, and they ought to go out and enjoy the fireworks. Clint agreed, but once they were alone, both armed themselves as though it were any other night, and took to the streets with a sharp eye. Patrols generally consisted of looking for things out of the ordinary, and then stopping for dinner when the search turned up fruitless. That night, she and Clint found themselves in a McDonald's, as it was the only place not overflowing with people of all kinds, tourists and locals, out celebrating the impending jump to the new year.

Over the course of her fish filet, Natasha realized the night was too hectic for them to get much surveillance done, and when Clint offered to go back and watch the town from the roof of their rented building, she wholeheartedly accepted. She wasn't sure what she could offer from that height, but Clint was the one with the eye for these things; maybe they could even enjoy a firework display or two.

However, when they finally returned back to their shared apartment building, Natasha immediately sensed something was afoot. She paused in the entryway, and then wordlessly motioned for Clint to shut the door silently. He complied, and then moved to her side, gun drawn and quietly cocked. There wasn't anything in particular that stood out about the main foyer, but the building was far too quiet; the streets were absolutely bustling with people and music and drunken laughter, and yet there was literally no movement in a building that was supposed to house almost eight other people.

There were dozens of places that she could have checked first, but Natasha opted for her bedroom rather than the common areas. She had a plethora of important documents, weapons, and S.H.I.E.L.D. equipment scattered around the small room, and she had a strange knot in her stomach whenever she thought of it now. Clint followed soundlessly, pausing every so often to listen to the dark nothingness. She was on the third floor, and covered ground quickly to get there; her suspicions were proven true when she arrived, and her fingers stiffened around her gun.

"Fuck."

It was Clint who spoke first, and she heard him sigh irritably at her side. It appeared as though someone had blown her door clear off, rendering the deadbolts she had installed useless. Once they had cleared the room, she sauntered in, her arms falling to her side; everything was gone. Her computer, books, money, translating device, and her array of weapons that had been strapped under her bed – someone had cleared the entire room out, right down to the pillow covers and blankets.

"They got my stuff too," Clint informed her as he examined their shared closet. All their clothes were missing, and she noticed that whoever had done this had swiped Clint's bags, which he had moved in shortly after he arrived. "My bow's gone."

"Well, it wasn't the most inconspicuous weapon you've ever used." She quirked an eyebrow at him when he rolled his eyes, and then kneeled down to get at eye-level with the floor. For the most part, all of the grime and dirt that she had let accumulate over the week had disappeared; someone had cleaned. "They were thorough."

"No chance of fingerprints."

"No chance of anything," she muttered quietly with a shake of her head. She wiped her hands off on her pants as she rose. A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she glanced at Clint sharply. "The lab."

Nothing more needed to be said. The duo took off to the lower levels of the apartment building, forgoing their previous caution – though not their previous weapons. Just as her bedroom door had been destroyed, Natasha found a similar state of affairs when they reached the lab. She sucked in her cheeks as she entered, the scent of death heavy in the air. The lab _normally_ smelled like decomposition, but this was a different sort of decay, and she came to an abrupt halt when she spotted the freshly murdered bodies of two of the lab technicians.

"_Fuck_."

She perched down next to them, careful not to touch, and wrinkled her nose at the clean knife-work along their throats; they would have bled out in a matter of minutes.

"I don't see our fellow agent down here," Clint noted. Natasha glanced up, shuffling back a little when she realized the blood pool had touched the tip of her boots, and then shot up to her feet.

"The bodies," she remarked heatedly, crossing the room to the pristine metal tables that had once held their samples. Gone. All of the hollowed out corpses had disappeared, along with the lab equipment and computers. The room was essentially empty, aside from the new corpses and metal tables.

"Fury won't want to hear it," he started as she inspected the tables, which were just as clean as her room, "but I think his agent has gone rogue."

"You think?" she murmured sarcastically as she straightened up, hands on her hips. "He would have contacted us if something like this happened while we were out…"

"Why would he care about any of this?" Clint ran a hand through his hair, and then started to pace. "We haven't even found a connection between the bodies and the city… maybe even the country. How could _he_ be involved-"

"Maybe this is bigger than Bangkok," she interrupted. "Maybe we've walked into something bigger than we expected."

He snorted. "Isn't that how it always starts?"

The corners of her lips quirked upward just enough to show her fleeting amusement, and then reached into her pocket for her phone.

"Should we call it in to S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"He _is_ S.H.I.E.L.D.," Natasha told him. "It will take the agency longer to get over here and start an investigation."

"So?"

She fumbled through her applications, typing in various passwords whenever a prompt flashed across her screen.

"So," she continued, turning the screen toward him when she found what she wanted, "we go after him ourselves. I'd love to freshen up on my interrogation routine… Maybe slice off a few fingers?"

He frowned as he took a closer look at the screen. "Did you bug him?"

"I put a tracker in the sole of one of his shoes," she explained. "He shouldn't leave them out in the open if he doesn't want them tampered with."

"Looks like he's headed north?"

"There's an agency safe house in Chiang Mai," Natasha noted as she turned her phone back toward her, eyes scanning the small dot puttering along on the screen against the backdrop of a map. "He seems stupid enough to head there."

"I see your opinion of him continues to improve," he noted as they made their way toward the door, side-stepping the blood pools as they went. "By the end of this, you'll be the best of friends."

"Shut up," she muttered, scrolling through her phone to find the train schedules for the local station. "We could be on a train at three this morning…"

Fourteen hours by train seemed awful, but if it meant catching up with Agent 22 before he fled the country, it was a mission she was willing to endure. Just as she was about to confirm her ticket purchase, Clint placed a hand on her arm, stopping her in the dark hallway.

"You hear that?"

She frowned, glancing upward as she strained to hear what he was referring to – it sounded like canons.

"Fireworks," he clarified, shooting her a smile they saved for private moments. "Happy New Year, Nat."

* * *

Confusion. Thor glared at the mobile telephoning device in his hand, and then shook his head. Why wouldn't it work? Stark had always made it look so simple whenever he dialed it to speak to Loki. The Captain stood at his side, arms folded across his chest; it was still so strange to see the warrior out of his red, white, and blue uniform, but he appeared equally comfortable in regular clothing.

"Wait, you need to unlock it first…"

"No, no, I simply need to press the designated numbers." He glared at the rectangular device; for all his practice, he still hadn't mastered the sensitive touch that it needed in order to make the troublesome buttons work.

"Look," the Captain insisted, pointing a finger at the screen as the device flashed an angry red, "it's an incorrect password… Type in two, four, three, seven…"

Thor frowned; those were not Loki's digits. No, Stark had left all of the necessary numbers for Loki and a variety of other people taped to the ice box, and Loki's number was much longer than this. However, seeing as the Captain was actually native to this realm, he figured he may have a better grasp of the modern technology than an Asgardian might. So, he followed the man's instructions, tapping a finger very gently and tentatively against the screen's digits. Suddenly, the image before him changed, and rather than a blank screen with four white boxes, Thor found himself staring at some strange landscape with a plethora of other little images everywhere.

"Alright, we're in," the Captain muttered. "So now we… uhm…"

They both stared down at the little device in Thor's hand, and it seemed that the Captain had reached the end of his usefulness. How could this be so difficult? If Eric Selvig could master all sorts of inane technology around Stark's giant tower, surely Thor could do the same!

"Thor?"

"Here, Jane," he called back absently.

When he finally glanced up, he caught her reflection in the large glass window, and then turned to face her, smiling at her approach. They had been given free-reign of Stark Tower while its owner and his lady attended another gathering for the evening, and Thor was pleased to see Jane and Darcy making the most of it. The women had been a little cooped up here without much to do aside from working on the capture or discovery (at the very least) of a living Pagurolid, and tonight was a night they intended to let loose.

Although the Captain may have been immune to the effects of alcoholic beverages, Thor certainly was not. He opted to begin drinking very early in the day, and by the time night hit, he was able to feel moderately intoxicated. Jane, Darcy, and Eric, on the other hand, were able to commence with the holiday festivities later on in the evening, and after a few glasses of rather strong liquor, a party seemed to be in full-swing.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she approached, shooting the Captain a warm smile before settling between the men. "Ten minutes until midnight… We rearranged all Stark's couches so we can watch the fireworks properly."

There was a slight slur to her words that Thor found endearing, and he leaned down to place a kiss to her forehead.

"I bet Stark is going to love that," the Captain chuckled, and his lady grinned.

"Yeah, Jarvis was pretty adamant that we leave everything alone," she explained, "but Eric disconnected the speaker… Haven't heard from him since."

"I'll be there in a moment," Thor told her, nodding toward the elevator from whence she came. "I wish to call my brother to offer good tidings for the New Year…"

Jane leaned over to view the device in his hand, and the Captain cleared his throat. "We're having a little trouble with the actual calling part of it…"

His lady laughed, a sound so clear and lovely that it was actually a distraction from his current task, and then took the device from him. She then pressed one of the images on the screen, which took her to another one.

"He's probably saved in the contacts list," she insisted, scrolling down through a handful of names. "I still can't believe Stark left you with this…"

"It was technically for emergencies," the Captain muttered, to which Thor shrugged. Contacting Loki to assure him that Thor was thinking of him during a celebration of mortal tidings seemed like a necessary thing.

"There's no Loki on the list," Jane said after a moment or so of searching. "What's the number?"

She punched in the digits as Thor recited it, the lengthy one he had forced into his memory, and then let out a bit of a titter when a name appeared on the screen.

"Reindeer Games?"

The Captain chuckled, though the jest remained lost on Thor. Instead, he merely took the device from her hand and held it to his ear, waiting tersely for his brother to answer the call. Silence was the only thing he heard in the process, and Jane delicately took the device back.

"You have to press the call button first," she told him softly. "This one… We'll be up on the observation deck when you're finished."

She gave his arm a firm squeeze, and then tugged the Captain back toward the elevator. When he was finally alone, standing there in the empty spare kitchen on the thirty-first floor, Thor pressed the appropriate button, and then held the device up to his ear. This time, there was a ringing sort of sound coming in, which he knew related to telephone technology, and now he merely needed to wait until his brother answered on the other end.

Two rings.

Three.

Four. Thor started to pace.

On the sixth ring, he finally heard Loki's voice in his ear, and a smile crept across his face.

"What?"

"Brother!" he boomed. "How are you?"

There was a bit of a pause on the other end, and he could almost hear the glare on the man's face through the tone of his voice.

"What do you want? Where's Stark?"

"Oh, everyone here is out celebrating," he explained, half-wishing he could have had this conversation with his brother in person. "I called to wish you a Merry New Year!"

This time, there was an even longer pause, and Thor could hear voices in the background. It was a mixture of male and female, and he wondered if Loki was also spending the night with his woman.

"Are you drunk?" When his brother spoke again, the background noises had faded away, and the irritation was much plainer.

"Only a little," he admitted with a shrug. "Is that not what mortals do on this day to celebrate the change between years?"

"I do not care what mortals are supposed to do-"

"Shouldn't you?" His eyebrows knitted together when he heard his brother scoff noisily; was he learning nothing from this experience?

"Was there something you actually needed?"

His gaze hardened as he stared at his reflection in a nearby window, and he shook his head. "No."

"Farewell then."

He tried to get another word in, but he heard a _click_ from the other end, and it seemed as though the connection between them had dropped. With a lengthy sigh, he set the device down on the countertop beside the large ice box. What could he do to earn kindness from his brother again?

"Hey, at least he answered…"

The Asgardian actually jumped a little at the sound of Jane's voice, and he wondered if she had been there the entire time. He could have sworn she went up with the Captain to the observation deck, but perhaps he had misjudged her.

"Yes… He did."

"Come on," she urged, pressing the elevator button and leaning against the wall. "We're going to miss the fireworks…"

* * *

Frustration. Loki glared down at his cellular telephone, his thumb pressed so forcefully on the disconnect button that his nail had lost its colour. How dare that fool of an Asgardian contact him for something not in the slightest bit related to their work? They may have ended their last conversation on amicable terms, but their relationship was still not even the slightest bit close to what it once was, and Loki assumed it never would be. He had no desire to speak to Thor, particularly when he thought it was Stark calling with something relevant, and his mood that day seemed to make him snippier than he should have been.

He couldn't help it. Today marked the last day of the given year, and it meant Loki had been banished to Earth for roughly four months; _four_ long months of living as a human. He had adjusted, naturally, but as the days wore on and he became more settled, he slowly realized there may not be an end in sight for some time. He was homesick. He missed his power, his strength, and his ability. He had felt powerless all his life; never once had he lived up to the standards that Thor set, and when he finally became the man's equal, the All-father knocked him right back down to the bottom.

After waking up earlier than Max that morning, he spent an hour or so lost in his dark thoughts, and when she finally awoke, his mood was absolutely foul. He immediately warned the woman that he was in a snit, and she seemed perfectly happy to leave him in their room – perhaps with the hope that it may disappear by the time they were set to celebrate the little holiday at midnight. Unfortunately, the mood stayed with him, and Loki remained a frustrated, irritable, moody dolt for the entirety of the day. His conversations with people were succinct and to the point, and he watched Max get ready for their evening in silence.

It seemed as though she had wanted to ask him what was bothering him, but she usually looked away when their eyes met and kept her questions to herself. However, when it was time to meet everyone for their dinner at the hotel's pricey establishment in the main hall, she gave him a look that silently ordered him to be civil. He assumed the only reason she had not reacted poorly to it was because she knew his annoyance had nothing to do with her.

In fact, Max was probably the only thing in his life at the moment that was not a constant source of frustration; she was quite lovely, particularly that evening. Her dress was fetching – dark navy, fitted, classically cut to her knees – and he liked the way she had created some thick sort of braid with her hair, which she wore to side. He almost thought she looked beautiful.

His mood improved just slightly over their dinner, but he remained a mostly quiet presence off to the side. When the group had finished, they moved into the hotel's bar and lounge on the main floor, and he was relieved to hear that was where they would be spending the rest of the night. He had grown incredibly weary of the club in the basement; the lounge was much quieter, and he was able to order a drink that was neither a beer nor some sugary-sweet concoction. As much as he wanted to, Loki couldn't bring himself to be a cheery companion that night, even if everyone else seemed to be getting alone. Even Max and Ben shared a few careful words, but it was all superficial and a little forced; Loki approved.

It was nearly midnight, and the group had managed to occupy the same circular booth for the entirety of the evening. He had roughly two pints of ale in him, and as he watched Max and the women progressively show their signs of drunkenness, he had decided to stop. After all, he and Garret had finally gotten into a conversation he could actually enjoy – despite his hyperawareness that he had quite clearly befriended a mortal man – and he thought he ought to try just a little. It was nearly midnight, anyway, and Max had promised they would only be out for another hour after the midnight celebrations eased off.

However, that was when Thor had called. He slipped away from the booth to answer the vibrating device, which had been in his pocket merely by chance, and from there his mood shot right back to Hel. The sound of Thor's voice was enough to bring him back to his unfortunate reality, and as he stood there, a mere ten feet away from the group's booth, he realized he couldn't go back. He would, naturally, return to his companions, but in that moment, the thought of going back to a group of mortals seemed somewhat sickening. If it had been Max alone, perhaps he could have pulled her away somewhere and selfishly used her to boost his ego, but for now, he simply desired solitude.

He turned sharply on his heel, sliding his phone back into his pocket, and departed from the lounge. His pace was brisk as he stormed through the lobby, but rather than returning to his room, he opted for the great outdoors. The wide glass exit was unlocked, illuminated by various lights scattered across the snowy grounds. He wished he had brought a jacket with him, but a part of him somewhat enjoyed the cold; it was nice to feel something aside from the wealth of negative emotions balled up inside him. There were a number of men and women out there, but perhaps only fleetingly as they puffed away on their cigarettes.

Loki ignored them, and instead strolled toward the frozen lake, his breath a foggy curtain in front of him. He found the bench they had used on the day they went skating, and then took a seat. Every single star seemed to want to make its presence known that night, and he briefly wondered if one of those tiny lights might be Asgard. He remained so lost in the night sky that he jumped a little when someone placed a hand on his shoulder, and he shied away down the bench, relaxing only slightly when he saw that it was Max.

"Hey," she said softly, wrapped up in someone's black jacket. She placed her hand on his arm this time, eyebrows knitted together, "Is everything okay?"

He clenched his back teeth together, eyes narrowing just a hint at the woman. She did not need to mother him – she should have just stayed inside.

"Ten minutes, Max," he snapped, and she retracted her hand as though something had scalded it. "I only want ten minutes to myself without being coddled!"

She blinked quickly, and he suddenly noticed how hard she was trying to appear less intoxicated than she actually was.

"Okay," she said quickly, wrapping both arms around her body and nibbling on her lower lip. She stared at him for a moment, and then cleared her throat. "I'll just go back in… Come back whenever you're ready."

Loki watched her turn, stumbling a little in her ridiculous shoes in the snow, and he let out a deep sigh.

"Max…"

She looked back at him the moment he called her name, but he wasn't able to hold her gaze for long. Instead, his eyes found a spot on the ground to stare at fixedly, and the only reason he knew she had come back to him was the delicate crunching of snow beneath each foot. There was a bit of space between them when she took a seat on the bench, arms still wrapped around her body, and he licked his lips.

"My brother called me." He continued to stare at the ground, even when he felt her eyes on him. "It set me off… I didn't mean to snap at you."

"Has something happened?"

He shook his head and sighed again. "No… He wanted to wish me well for the upcoming year."

"Well that's nice of him." He felt her body touch his as she shuffled a little bit closer, legs crossed at the ankles. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." He fidgeted with his hands, which were starting to get too cold for comfort. "I barely said a thing to him."

She reached out suddenly and took his hands in hers, holding them between her warm palms as she gazed out across the frozen water.

"You know that we don't have to talk about it," she insisted. It was a point she had made very clear over the course of their relationship, and he was finally starting to think she meant it. "I don't need you to fill me in on every facet of your life if you don't want to."

"I know."

"But don't take it out on me either," she told him, a slight teasing quality to her voice. "Just ask nicely for your space."

A small smile touched his lips, and he leaned over to press a kiss to her temple. She had this natural ability to soothe his ire, no matter the situation, and he quickly realized that there was yet another benefit for remaining close to the woman for his duration in this realm. He thought he ought to offer another apology for the entire day's behaviour, but before he could get the words out, a dull roar erupted behind them. Both he and Max turned back toward the hotel, and he heard her laugh as the smoking humans embraced one another and people in the lobby seemed to be lost in celebration.

"Apparently it's midnight," she chuckled, and Loki nodded as his teeth started to chatter. "According to tradition, we're supposed to kiss."

"Well, if we must," he managed, his shivering quite noticeable now. Her eyes caught some of the scattered lights in the distance, shimmering before him as she held his gaze. They disappeared when she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his as his hands slid up to cup her face. He would have preferred to linger, lost in the softness of her skin, but the chill had seeped down to his bones, and he wouldn't be able to remain on that bench much longer.

Another weakness of the human flesh.

"Come on," she whispered when she pulled away, taking his hand and tugging him up. "You don't have to come back to the bar, but you can't stay here…"

He laced his fingers around hers, quite happy to let her lead him back toward the hotel. "Happy New Year."

"I think so," she mused, shooting him a look over his shoulder. "Now, we really ought to work on you grabbing a coat before you storm off to the outdoors…"

His arm shot out to steady her when she slipped on a patch of ice, and he chuckled at her blushing.

"And we ought to get you another drink," he insisted. "I think it will help with your awful balance…"

* * *

Pain. Nolan stared up at the roof of the helicopter, and then swallowed thickly, jaw clenched, as Mike the Medic added another layer of bandages to his knee.

"Ten minutes to landing." A voice crackled through the uncomfortable earpiece of the chopper headset, and he nodded. Mike seemed to have missed the gesture, and when he said Nolan's name, the man raised his fist to offer a shaky thumbs-up.

"How's Greg?" he croaked, wishing they had stuck _him_ with the same painkillers his buddy had been given before they were evacuated.

"Holding steady."

"Good."

He was going to get something for this – some sort of award or speech when he was with the guys again. Maybe someone would include an anecdote about him and Greg in the paper when they wrote about the suicide bomber; after all, they did manage to pull four people out of harm's way before shit really hit the fan. He didn't want any of it, and he was pretty sure Greg wouldn't either. They were just doing their jobs, the civilians were just minding their own business, and the asshole with the bomb hidden up his shirt was there for everyone.

There wasn't supposed to be any trouble that night; their inspection had been routine, and they were basically done with that area anyway. Moving on to another rural town that was generally pretty quiet: that was what they were supposed to do on the first day of January. Instead, he and Greg would be bunking up in the military hospital, swapping their barracks for white beds and nurses who were probably more frazzled than the base staff. Once he was stable, Greg was probably going to get shipped home – his right shoulder was fucked.

Nolan knew. Nolan had held it together, hands soaked in his buddy's blood, until the paramedics arrived.

Both of their injuries were due to shrapnel and nails, which had absolutely torn the bomber apart. Greg got the worst of it, whereas Nolan crawled away with a few lengthy nails embedded in the meat of his right thigh. He'd be fine. Recovery was going to be a bitch, but no more than a month – tops. The medics had gotten there in time; he forced them to patch up Greg first, otherwise the guy would have been a goner. He played down his injuries for the sake of a buddy, and that way they could have another year together.

The helicopter was dark and noisy, and the longer he spent in it, the more nauseous he felt. As much as he had tried to play it down, the pain in his leg was starting to get beyond an uncomfortable level; they may have put a stopper on the bleeding, but he wished they had done something to stem the feel of daggers in each wound.

He glanced down; where had half of his pants gone?

Something flickering nearby caught his attention. There were a lot of little lights around him, not to mention the ones flashing on the outside of the helicopter. However, this was different: a dull green. He blinked rapidly, breathing increasing as he tried to find the source of the new light. Moments later, Mike the Medic brought his arm away from Nolan's leg and fiddled with his watch – goodbye light.

"It's midnight, man," the medic informed him. "You guys made it to the new year."

He nodded, his eyes slowly drifting closed. "Happy New Year, Mike."

"You alright?" Another nod. Stay focused. Max was going to fuck his shit up when she found out about this. "Hey, Wright, eyes open…"

"I don't feel good."

"Yeah, you've got a fucking nail in your thigh," the man explained, and he inhaled sharply when he felt a hand on his face. He hadn't even realized he had closed his eyes again. "Nearly there, man… Stay awake. The surgeon is going to get them all out."

"Where's Greg?"

"Right here. Right beside you."

"I don't feel good."

The chopper swerved, and before the medic could force him back down, Nolan leaned over the side of his little transport cot as far as his restraints would let him and vomited up everything he had eaten for dinner.

* * *

Pleasantly drunk. It was a feeling Tony hadn't experienced for quite some time now, and he was pretty proud that he had realized when to stop. Pepper would have killed him if he made a fool out of himself in front of the shareholders, but she should have expected a party like this to bore him. However, no matter how bored he was over the small talk and the way the bigwigs danced around questions regarding the Avengers, Tony had been as civil as his sarcasm would allow.

Now, he definitely would have preferred to spend New Year's Eve at Stark Tower with the rest of its inhabitants. He didn't necessarily want to be there for Thor and the Captain, but he would have preferred to ring in the New Year somewhere closer to his bed. Instead, he found himself across town in some ridiculous high-rise apartment penthouse with Manhattan's social elite. As usual, Pepper received dozens of invites to various parties for the thirty-first, and most of them hit the trash can before she spoke a word of them to Tony. However, this one had been pressed on him for the last month, and when he listened to her reasons for attending for the billionth time, he finally conceded and had his tux cleaned.

What would he do without Pepper? The party was put on by a few of the shareholders in his company, and they played the night off as a charity event for the city's impoverished youth. Naturally, Tony would have rather just sent a cheque, but Pepper pointedly reminded him that he had been absent from the world ever since he returned from that village in Vermont. He hadn't done any press for the company, barely went down to the offices to show his face, and had missed out on most of the December charity events in favour of working with Rogers and Thor.

Personally, Tony thought the work he was doing was far more important than being in the newspapers, but once again, Pepper had a point. He couldn't tell the world that he was in the process of hunting an alien race that liked to live inside chest cavities and reanimate dead people; that would cause mass panic. So, with his secret held close to his chest, Tony just looked like a rich asshole who stopped caring about his business and the city's charitable causes.

So, there he was – suit and tie on, chequebook out, and faking smiles and hobnobbing with the elite. He hadn't seen Pepper since they arrived, and by now he had worked his way through the idiots who were only there to weasel money out of him; those guys definitely weren't here for the charity. Although it went against his better instinct, he had told Jarvis not to update him on the tidings of his tower; Thor had been drinking since that morning in order to feel a slight buzz for the night's proceedings, and the women seemed pretty excited to celebrate at a place that had the best view offered in the entire city. The Captain couldn't get drunk, but who knows what kind of disaster Tony would walk into once he finished showing his face around this part of town.

He would have rather been working. There were aliens invading his planet, and he had the power and technology to do something about it – yet he was stuck here with the finest snobbery Manhattan had to offer. Lips pursed, he tapped his champagne glass irritably, and then took another quick sip.

Tony would have preferred scotch, but he was staying just sober enough for Pepper's sake.

The hunt for the Pagurolid invaders hadn't really gone anywhere. He hadn't expected Loki to be much help when they initially sought him out, and was surprised at the wealth of information floating around in the demoted god's head. It would have been better if the guy could have packed up his things and moved into Stark Tower with the rest of them; Tony preferred to keep his enemies somewhere he could see them. However, he seemed to be a non-threatening entity without his powers, and seeing as he and Bruce hadn't noticed any significant horror stories coming out of Masonville, Vermont, Tony assumed all was well. For now, all he cared about was that Loki kept up on news articles, and should something come up – say, a discarded shell of a body – during the course of his lackluster snooping, Tony hoped Loki would send the information his way.

Besides, he had access to everything Loki searched, and it seemed as though he at least put a half-hearted effort into doing a little bit of work each day. Meanwhile, Tony and the rest tried to find something… _anything_ that would tie in with Steve's attackers. They had made a quick trip back to England, but that turned out fruitless. They had tried looking up weapons that were similar to the one that the aliens used, but that gave them nothing but e-Bay ads for fake medieval daggers. Thor and Jane were in the process of researching anything and everything that was remotely similar to the creatures in history texts and from lore, but even that was a stretch.

So far, they had nothing, and it was fucking infuriating. How were they _supposed_ to get anything on some alien species that have probably never been to Earth before this past year anyway?

He eased himself away from the pillar that had been his leaning-post for the last fifteen minutes when he spied a pair of corporate lawyers making their way toward him, and then glanced at his wristwatch. With midnight fast approaching, he finished the remainder of his glass and passed it off to a circulating waitress, and then delved into the crowd to find Pepper.

She definitely wasn't difficult to spot; he adored her in blue, and she was wearing the gown he surprised her with when he returned from England. A purse clutched in her hands, Pepper looked perfectly at ease as she entertained the mayor's aide, laughing with just enough oomph to appear sincere. However, Tony knew better; his lady-love couldn't stand the aide, and he took it upon himself to play her knight in shining armour – it felt strange with the roles reversed.

"I'd say that I don't mean to interrupt," he started, taking her gently by the wrist and tugging her away from the man, "but that'd be a lie."

"Stark," the aide greeted stiffly. "Always a pleasure."

"Yeah."

Pepper rolled her eyes and professed her apologies over her shoulder as Tony dragged her away. To their credit, people had finally started moving out of the way for him as he pressed through the crowd; earlier in the night had been all forced conversations and smiles, but it was getting down to the wire, and Tony was done with pleasantries.

"I have a surprise for you," he told her as they neared a winding stairwell. "My gift for the new year…"

He heard her sigh, and he frowned; that wasn't the usual reaction to his gifts. At this point, she should know he managed to dig up some pretty excellent presents, even if they were a little unorthodox sometimes. Tonight, however, was something she could genuinely appreciate. He had called ahead and asked the owner of the penthouse to block off the balcony on the upper-deck. There was only enough space on it for four or five people, but Tony requested it just for him and Pepper. There was a massive balcony on the main floor of the suite, and he had no qualms with paying a little extra to give his girl the best views for the firework display over the city skyline.

Unfortunately, Pepper remained somewhat standoffish, even when he went to great lengths to explain exactly what he had done for her. Her smile was a little forced, and he finally let out an exasperated puff of air.

"I'm not drunk, Pepper."

"What?" She frowned at him, wrapped up in her shawl as they stood on the windy balcony.

"I've had four or five glasses of champagne _all night_," he emphasized, assuming her snotty attitude stemmed from her guess that he was drunk off his face. Mind you, it wouldn't have been a stretch to think that he was a little intoxicated, but he had really made the effort tonight.

"I don't… I know you're not drunk," she snapped irritably, readjusting her shawl and clearing her throat.

He stared at her for a moment, and then turned out toward the skyline, his hands resting on the cold metallic balcony. "Then what? What have I done now?"

"You haven't done anything-"

"I know when you're annoyed with me," he interjected pointedly. "Just tell me so we can fix it before we start the New Year."

"I'm not-"

"Pepper!"

"I'm pregnant."

He turned to face her sharply, and in that moment, fireworks exploded around them. There were thunderous cheers from the downstairs portion of the suite, accompanied by boisterous music and shouting from the streets below. However, Tony couldn't focus on anything but Pepper; she was pregnant?

Was it his? He shook his head – _of course_ it was his!

With a surplus of colours erupting around them, he could understand why she chose to pay more attention to the display than to him. He had always expected that when a woman told him she was pregnant with his child, Tony's mind would become a flurry of thought. He'd work out when they had last had sex, whether or not he wanted to be a father (which was an issue he preferred _not_ to delve into), and how he could kick the woman out of his apartment without having the cops called on him. But this was Pepper, and his mind was blank.

It stayed blank until the fireworks stopped, and he realized he had missed the entire performance because he was too busy staring at her face.

"Look," she said finally, her voice quivering. In that moment, he noticed her eyes were starting to water; both symptoms could be from the cold, but he knew otherwise. "If you don't want to do this, I understand. I haven't really thought about all of my options, but I know I've got them, and I want it to be a shared decision. There's no pressure-"

"Shut up."

Her face blanched, eyes wide and lips pressed together, and she glared at him. "Excuse me?"

He shook his head, fishing into the inner pocket of his jacket; he'd been carrying the damn thing around for long enough. The box was somewhere in his office tonight – it would have looked bulky under his suit. Despite the wet ground, Tony fell down to one knee, and then held up the ring for her to see.

"Shut up?"

He hadn't the slightest idea what he wanted to do. Was his life even stable enough to have a wife, let alone a baby?

Pepper licked her lips as a tear rolled down her cheek, and then held out her left hand, fingers spread, and nodded.

* * *

Fear. Agent 22 could literally feel every tense part of his body as he made a very obvious effort to keep his eyes on the ground. He could see the boots of the man he had come to know as Frank Gavin occasionally enter his line of sight, and they always made his palms sweat. Actually, his entire body was drenched in sweat; this fucking country seemed to know nothing but heat and humidity. It certainly didn't help that they were in some tiny shed in the middle of nowhere, making use of it while the farmer and his family were gone for the day. The presence of Gavin's lab technicians plucked at the hairs on his neck, and they hovered by the only two windows the shed had to offer. It smelled like goat shit.

"Now, let me get this clear," Frank began, and the agent glanced upward. The man looked irritated, but he had decided a long time ago not to trust the outward appearance – Frank Gavin was an alias, and he wore the real Gavin's skin like a coat. "None of them are dead?"

He swallowed thickly. "I did everything I could-"

"It's a simple question with a simple answer."

Silence. He took a moment to collect himself, hesitant to let too much of his fear out.

"We rigged the God's house with bombs," Agent 22 started, ticking off each experience on a trembling finger. His voice managed to remain steady – thank God. "The bombs went off, but they managed to get out literally seconds before detonation. In my eyes, it was a near success." Frank's face turned somewhat impassive. "Barton was supposed to be in the hotel, but it was a freak coincidence that he was in town at four in the morning when we blew up the Marriot. I _did_ rig our current suite, and I know for a fact that Agent Romanoff and Barton will be back from patrol… They should be dead by now."

"There is no confirmation of their death," one of the lab technicians interrupted. "Though we do have reports that the building _did_ explode… The media is calling it a gas leak."

"You see, there's a success," he prattled on. "For all we know, we've managed to get two of them. I've had my guys _trying_ to get into Stark's fortress, both physically and online, but that's been proving… difficult. We'll break him, but it's… it's taking longer than I anticipated."

"Why not simply assassinate him?" Frank demanded. "The man of metal should be eliminated as soon as possible. What of the Asgardian? Where is he now?"

His stomach knotted. "We lost him somewhere in Utah… They were driving somewhere. I… We'll find him. He isn't exactly discrete."

"But they all live?"

"Look, the theory was done properly, but sometimes unexpected circumstances arise," he insisted heatedly. "I did my job… I basically handed the Captain's location over to your boys and they lost him."

"They were dealt with."

There was such finality to the man's tone that turned his insides cold, and he tried to blink back his concern.

"We will just have to keep trying," he continued after a tense moment of silence. "The world may call them 'superheroes', but they aren't invincible. They all have their weaknesses, and we'll get them in the end."

He watched Frank exchange bland looks with the lab technicians and then shake his head.

"I am starting to rethink your proposal to simply kill off the Avengers team," the man told him, hands clasped behind his back. "I think we need to try another direction."

No. No, he wasn't wrong – he was helpful. He couldn't be seen as wrong. Agent 22 closed his eyes for a moment, and then took a deep breath.

"If you want to invade this planet successfully," he told them, "then you need to get rid of your opposition. Right now, the strongest opposition is from the Avengers. They aren't completely under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s control, and can basically just _do_ whatever they want. They have the manpower and technology to stop-"

"Enough."

He fell silent, and then flinched when he realized just how close those damn lab technicians had come.

"The Avengers are useful," Frank mused, "and perhaps better kept alive… They have faces the masses can relate to."

Before he could object, he was forced down to his knees. "What-"

"You are very set in your thinking, Agent," Frank explained, reaching into the depth of his jacket and producing a familiar dagger, "but you seem to have reached the end of your purpose with us."

"No, no, I'm willing to do whatever you-"

"No dissension, Agent," Frank told him. The grip on his arms tightened as he tried to struggle free, and he let out a hoarse cry when one of them yanked his head back. "You have a valuable face… good fingerprints, and a voice your agency will recognize. It's the thought-process that seems to slow you."

"I can change!"

"No," Frank remarked with a smile, "it's the downfall of your kind… You cannot change. You try to adapt, and most of the time you fail. You're stubborn."

He swallowed thickly, and then shook his head. "Resilient. That's the word you're looking for."

The man's smile grew as he placed the tip of the dagger at the base of the agent's throat, and he sighed.

"Foolish… Perhaps _that_ is the word."

He should have seen this end in his future. One can never make bargains so wonderful and expect the dealer to follow through. There was no country for him to rule, no wealth to collect; this had always been his fate.

"Thank you for your continued service to the betterment of your world."

He managed to scream his final thoughts as the dagger was thrust into his chest.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Jeez. This turned out to be a lot longer than I had originally anticipated. Hopefully not **_**too**_** long that you got lost in it! That's always a worry of mine… Anywho! So I realize we're missing Max's parents and Pat, but I basically got everyone else covered either in the point-of-view scenes or mentioned in passing. **_**That**_** won't be happening anytime soon!**

**I actually don't have too much to say about this one… I guess I'm just tired. My goal is to get 4 updates for this story during this month, so whether I make it or not, you can expect more updates in the near future. **

**I'm not too sure how legit I was about military medical procedures, but I'd like to think I was vague enough to make it work. Nolan – my poor bby. It's not the last we'll see of him, I swearz. What I liked about this chapter was making parallels between all the characters - the way Loki and Max interact vs. the way Jane and Thor interact, the fact that Tony and Loki both like their ladies in blue, Nat and Clint's relationship compared to everyone else... I enjoyed myself, anyway. **

**Much love to everyone for all their feedback – it's all thoughtful and I absolutely love having something to read from you guys after I post! LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!**


	41. Looper

Max shook her head as she crossed out a short answer question on a student's exam, and half-heartedly wondered if this person had actually studied at all. She let out a sigh, scribbling in her red pen why they weren't going to get any points for the paragraph of bullshit that they spewed out, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Ben glance up. Rather than meet his eyes and share a laugh over stupid answers as they usually did, she merely ground her back teeth together and kept focused; he returned to his own exam eventually.

Two long weeks had passed since they returned from their trip to Burford, and thus far, she and Ben had barely spoken. Yes, there was the odd time that they needed to communicate while doing T.A. work, and they participated in group discussions with their professor when forced to, but otherwise they had kept their distance. At this point, it felt as though the silence had carried on for too long, but they were both too stubborn to break it, and Max hated it. Ben wasn't necessarily her best friend, but he had been one of her closer ones over the recent years, and she absolutely loathed the fact that they were giving each other the silent treatment over _Erica_ of all people.

However, that was also what kept her anger going; Ben chose Erica over her, and that was equally as infuriating as their ridiculous silent treatments. Luckily enough, the drama did not extend far beyond those actually involved. Garret and Tiffany stuck with neutrality, and on the few occasions that she had seen them since Burford, neither brought up the fight nor did they ask for it to come to an end. In fact, Max had even run into Erica – unfortunately – while she was picking up take-out for dinner, and the woman was perfectly pleasant toward her. Naturally, she assumed her niceties came from the notion that Erica was probably _thrilled_ to see her fighting with Ben, and liked to put on a smug exterior whenever they were together.

Loki hadn't asked her once about her situation with Ben, but Max hadn't taken his silence as inconsiderate. Instead, she assumed that he was the only _real_ neutral party in the whole situation, as he wasn't even friends with Ben. Garret and Tiffany and the rest of that house may have acted normal around Max, but there was a niggling thought at the back of her mind that said they were all discussing the drama in private. Loki, on the other hand, had no one to talk with it about, and had yet to even mention Ben's name outside of classroom talk. It was actually incredibly helpful to have a person to be around that didn't remind her of Ben; all of her friends lived with him, she had a class with him, and his faculty floor was directly below her. Therefore, at some point during the day, she had to see him, and it was such a relief to come home and _not_ have a single reminder of him anywhere.

Besides, if Loki didn't ask, Max didn't tell. She found that talking about it with anyone – usually Tiffany – only reminded her why she was so angry, and it made things worse. Loki helped her forget, and for that she was actually pretty grateful. Aside from her issues with Ben, her life had fallen back into its usual routine after the winter holidays, but with one substantial difference: Loki. Yes, he had been a part of her life before, but now she could come home after school and cuddle with him on the couch, or sleep in his bed, and neither of them felt uncomfortable with it.

The transition from roommates to cohabiting significant others went much smoother than she had expected, and now that they were both on the same page, their relationship felt easy. They retained their playful sides, and yet she could be with him whenever she wanted without thinking about it for hours afterward – she no longer needed to wonder what his actions meant. Instead, she could simply enjoy his company. Now, it wasn't as though their house had changed immeasurably; he still had no idea that the apartment needed to be cleaned once a week and Max still had her moments of frustration when he couldn't do the dishes properly. So, it wasn't necessarily domestic bliss, but life was easier with the knowledge that her affections were wholeheartedly returned.

Although she had wanted to, Max hadn't brought up one of their biggest past issues: the idea of him randomly leaving. He hadn't ever elaborated on it, and as curious as Max might have been, she knew it would only rekindle old troubles if she tried to discuss it again. She liked to think that if he had agreed to be with her, he did it because he knew he would be staying in Masonville until the summer at the very least. So, while it wasn't necessary domestic bliss on all fronts, Max liked to keep their relationship as drama-free as possible – she had enough of that floating around in the rest of her social sphere.

"This is stupid."

She barely glanced up when she heard Ben mutter the words, and then sighed as she crossed out yet another incorrect answer on the paper in front of her. The way this student was going, they were going to be lucky to end up with a barely passing mark.

"Yeah, well," she managed tightly as she tried to squish her corrected answer into the margins, "I think he should have given them more than the weekend to learn the material… It's way too much."

"That's not what I was talking about."

Max sighed noisily, and then set her red pen down. She folded her hands together, and then stared up at her friend, an eyebrow quirked. This was the first time either of them had directly addressed anything, and she wasn't sure if this was the proper time to do it. Her temper was ready to snap after wading through pages upon pages of bullshit essay questions, her uterus was caving in on itself, and all she wanted to do was go home. The only reason she had agreed to remain behind with Ben and grade papers was because their professor had their letters of recommendation for summer positions ready, and intended to give it to them after a meeting with a student.

That was well over an hour ago. The meeting was _supposed _to be twenty minutes – tops.

"You really want to talk about this now?" she asked as she leaned back in her chair. He shrugged, and then pushed his exam pile away from him.

"When else then?"

She shook her head, her gaze wandering around the room to any fixture aside from him. "I don't know… I don't really even know what to say."

"You could apologize?"

He swallowed thickly when she finally looked at him again, and she felt her jaw drop a little.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, it's just…" He trailed off as he fiddled with the corner of the test booklet in front of him, gaze now completely averted. "You haven't even given her a chance, and as one of my best friends-"

"I'm going to stop you right there," Max snapped, heat rushing to her cheeks as she glared at him. "I'm one of your best friends, and _you_ have watched me with her for years… You've seen what she's like to me, and you know what she did when I broke up with-"

"That was years ago," he interrupted, and Max hastily began gathering up her exams, which were scattered across the round table they had been sharing at the back of the classroom.

"It doesn't matter," she told him coldly. "She's rude to me most of the time, but she does it with a smile to make idiots like you think she's being sweet."

"That's not fair-"

"No, what isn't fair is that I have to defend my feelings to you," she remarked, shoving unmarked exams into her backpack in a huff. "We've been friends since high school, and I've talked to you so many times about her and what she does to my face and behind my back, and now _I_ should be the one giving _her_ a chance because you guys are screwing?"

"We're not just…" He swallowed thickly, and then cleared his throat. "We're not just screwing… I asked her to be my girlfriend… and she said she would."

Her bag landed on the floor noisily as she stared at him, jaw hanging slightly open, and Max shook her head.

"Look," she started, leaning on the table and pointing a warning finger at him, "I don't give a fuck who you date. You want to date Erica? _Fine_… Date the shit out of her." He opened his mouth to add something, but she only spoke louder, in no mood to argue anymore. "But the fact that you can't even slightly begin to understand why I'm not suddenly her best friend makes you an insensitive dick."

"Max-"

"And you're _never_ the insensitive dick," she ranted, throwing her arms up and groaning. "You're the nice guy, Ben, but if you think I can get over years of really, really disliking Erica because you two are a thing… You're an idiot."

"I'm not apologizing for wanting my best friend to at least _pretend_ to be nice to my new girlfriend," he said shakily after a moment or two of tense silence. "Everyone else is doing a pretty good job… Maybe if you got to know her-"

"I don't want to get to know her!" She grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, ramming her chair back under the desk. "I know girls like Erica… I _know_ Erica."

"We shouldn't fight because of her-"

"We're fighting because of _you_," she corrected irritably. "We're fighting because you think my feelings are invalid and that everything that cunt put me through just goes away because you're dating her."

"Ugh, I hate that word."

"Cunt?"

"Yeah, well, might as well get used to it," Max snapped, "because that's what you're dating now."

"Well that's what you're acting like!"

Max took a deep breath, and then snatched her coat off the back of the chair; she couldn't keep this up, otherwise she was going to start crying. It wouldn't be a miserable sobbing, or anything, but rather a venting of frustration, and she wasn't going to give him that.

"When you're ready to apologize for making _me_ out to be the bad guy because I still don't like the girl who gets a thrill out of making my life miserable, you know where you can find me," she stated. "Until then, you can go fuck yourself."

"Fine," she heard him call as she stalked toward the door. "Well… _You_ can apologize when you stop being a crazy person and…"

She managed to ignore the rest of whatever had come out of his mouth once she was in the hallway, and as much as she wanted to slam the door behind her, she refrained. It may have been late in the afternoon, but she knew there were still at least one or two classes happening in the corridor. Once she was a good distance away, she threw her bag down and shoved her arms into her coat's sleeves, eyes blurry; the frustrated tears had come. She wiped them away quickly, and then hurried down the hall; all she wanted to do was go home and have something horribly fattening to eat.

Loki was supposed to be working tonight, which meant she wouldn't actually see him until sometime after ten. The thought put an even greater dampener on her mood, and she mentally went through all of her cupboards in an attempt to find something delicious to eat. However, seeing as they hadn't gone grocery shopping since they returned from Burford, it was probably going to be another noodles and Alfredo sauce kind of night.

"Max?"

The only reason she stopped was that the voice was so distinctly _not_ Ben's that it felt acceptable to slow her pace. When she turned, she spotted her supervisor hurrying down the hall after her, an envelope in hand.

"Sorry I took so long," he insisted as he approached, and Max forced herself to smile. "First years, you know? Every little thing is a tragedy…"

"Well, you'll have more of that after they get their exams back," she joked weakly, thumbing her backpack on her shoulder. "It's not looking all that good…"

"They were starting to coast along," her supervisor grumbled, holding out the envelope for her to take. "They needed a little wake-up to remind them that they were no longer in secondary school…"

She nodded, and then brought the envelope to her chest. "Thanks for this."

"I know you're all going to be applying to internships and things," he said with a shrug. "I heard you went for the one in Oxford." Max blinked back her surprise, cheeks flushing a little at the attention he bothered to pay to her. "You'll get it… I've already sent an email along to the advisor telling them they'd be stupid not to take you."

She stared at him blankly for a moment, and then shook her head. "I… Thanks."

"Chin up, kiddo," he remarked, patting her on the arm twice before turning away. "You look like you've got a bad case of the winters, and it's only January."

Max watched his figure retreat down the hall, disappearing only when he turned the corner, and then let out another sigh. She then tucked her envelope beneath her jacket, zipped it up, and braced herself for the freezing outdoors.

* * *

Loki wasn't particularly sure why he bothered to work at the bookstore anymore. After all, Stark had paid off all of his debts, and continued to add enough funds into his bank accounts to keep him afloat. He hadn't been greedy in his requests – he demanded Stark provide him with enough to survive, yet not enough so that he could make extravagant and suspicious purchases. However, even with the small influx of money, Loki certainly did not need to work with Melissa and the rest of the bookstore crew, particularly when he hadn't had a single shift with Max since they returned to Masonville. After all, if he didn't need the money and he wouldn't see Max, what was the point in being there?

Max had mentioned something about… building a résumé, but considering he had no intentions of ever _working_ in a legitimate profession somewhere in this realm, her reasoning fell flat. However, he kept up his charade for now; it made Max happy to see him working, and it provided a somewhat boring distraction – but a distraction all the same – from the rest of the work he was required to do.

Ever since he returned from his little sexually-charged holiday with Max, Loki had definitely been slacking on Stark's assignments; the number of irritated voice mails the man had left actually filled his mobile telephone device. Unfortunately, Loki had simply fallen back into an old, depressing routine of school work, bookstore shifts, and awful meals made by two people who had absolutely no idea what they were doing in the kitchen. It wasn't all bad, mind you; he liked the fact that he could take Max to bed whenever he had the desire to do so, and she was infinitely more patient about his lack of contributions to the apartment's cleanliness now that they were courting.

Besides, he actually enjoyed being _with_ Max. He wasn't sure what it meant to court a woman in this realm, but in Asgard he would have technically been testing her suitability for wifehood. Naturally, he knew he wasn't going to marry Max, but there was a small part of him that insisted she wasn't simply a toy to keep him entertained while he was banished to Earth. That morning, he had woken up with a very faint hint of his former strength. It wasn't much, but he _was_ able to lift the ice box to get the knife that had fallen under it. Max hadn't been watching at the time, and he thought it best to keep his rediscovered strength to himself; after all, while his fondness for her may have given him a hint of Odin's praise, it may frighten her to know that he could suddenly lift terribly heavy things.

It was a blessing to know that Odin hadn't completely forgotten him. Naturally, Loki was still frustrated that the All-father had only given him a smidgen of his former powers back, but at least it was _something_. He had thought that his small role in the salvation of humanity may have earned him some more points, but perhaps that was something he could contend with when he actually found something noteworthy. Thus far, Loki had combed through newspapers across the Americas, and was working in an eastward direction across the realm. Once Max drifted off to sleep that night, either in her bed or his, he had a plan to use Stark's private access codes to get into the archives of the Thai newspapers.

Thailand. He hadn't a single idea what the country produced, what their people were like, or if they even spoke English. However, he did enjoy their Pad Thai, so perhaps tonight's session of staring at his computer monitor until his vision blurred might not be so terrible.

On nights like this, when the winds howled and the snowfall was relentless, Loki really wished Max would have let him take the car to campus. It wasn't as though the walk was far, but everything felt like an eternity when one was frozen to the bone. He knew it was wishful thinking, but he hoped Max had saved some sort of steaming hot food for him, even if it was after ten. The only good part about the walk back from campus was that the town had fixed many of the streetlamps that were on a downward spiral – oh, and the parking lot had been shoveled since they returned from Burford.

He preferred _not_ to forge his own walkway in order to get to his front door. Instead, he was left to contend with random patches of ice lurking beneath the freshly fallen snow; at least his pants stayed dry, and his balance was immeasurably better than Max's, even without his powers.

Their apartment was warm and inviting when he arrived, stumbling through the door as his shaky hand clung to the frigid key, though it could have done with a few more lights on. The bulb above the stone illuminated the kitchen, but the rest of the space's lighting came from the television, which he found Max in front of.

"Little dark for watching that, isn't it?" he commented absently as he shrugged off his coat. He hung the garment on a nearby hook, and then flicked at the light-switch with his finger. When he turned back to Max, who was curled up in the middle of the couch with something unrecognizable clutched between her hands, her disposition was quite noticeable – she was crying. "What? What is it?"

His mind immediately sought out the worst possible scenarios: her mother was sick, her brother had been taken by a Pagurolid, her father was dead… However, as he swept across the room and she eased herself into a seated position, he realized the cause of her distress might not be _quite_ so severe. He had become proficient in reading his roommate over their many months together, but sadness was not one he was particularly adept with.

"They let the whale die," she stated shakily, pointing her spoon at the screen as he settled down next to her. He frowned, a hand in her hair as he studied the television box – it was a commercial for a local bank institution.

"They… did?" She sniffled noisily, her eyes red and cheeks swollen, and then stabbed her spoon into a tube of something Loki had never seen before. He cocked his head sideways to read the label: cookie dough. His nose then wrinkled as she scooped some out and shoved it in her mouth, and he was quick to snatch the raw food away from her.

"Hey-"

"It says not to eat it uncooked, you silly girl," he snapped, keeping the tube – which was nearly finished – out of her hands and tossing it onto the coffee table. "You'll make yourself sick."

It said right there on the label – what was she thinking?

"It's fine," she mumbled, licking the spoon clean before letting her hands fall limply in her lap. "I do it all the time."

He shook his head, still unaware of what might have made her weep, and then stiffened when she started again at the return of the television show she had been watching – something about a Simpson family. Loki frowned; he didn't like to hear her cry, as it made something tighten painfully in his chest.

"Tell me what's wrong," he urged softly, reaching forward to run a thumb under her eyes.

"A whale washed up on the b-beach," she started, pointing once more at the screen, "and Lisa found it, and then it was going to die if they didn't save it… And then they saved it, but it was all a dream, and then the whale _died_."

She finished her story with a fresh round of tears as the show's credits flashed across the screen, and Loki cleared his throat uncomfortably. The second explanation left him with just as many questions as the first, but he still managed to wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her in toward his chest.

"Now, you know… You know that nothing actually died," he offered gently. "The show isn't real-"

"I know," she whimpered, her arms curled up between them as she nestled beneath his chin, "but it's still sad."

"Alright," he muttered with a nod, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He tried to reach the remote controlling device with his spare hand, which was situated at the far end of the couch, but his fingers were _just_ too short. So, he brought the arm back to wrap around Max, resting his hand on her waist. "Is the… whale the only thing that made you like this?"

"Like what?"

He paused, carefully choosing his words as he stroked her hair. "Well, you're quite upset… Has something else happened?"

She sat up suddenly and tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks, sighing a little as she did so. "Oh, I don't know…"

He really ought to be given _full_ use of at least _one_ power for everything that he put up with in this realm, even when it came to Max. Crying women had never been his speciality, and it seemed that age hadn't exactly made him any wiser.

"I'm just super PMS-y, I guess," she said finally, and once again the information meant very little to him, "and Ben and I got into this stupid fight at school today-"

"What?" he said sharply, eyebrows furrowing as he turned her by the chin to face him. "Did he harm you?"

She frowned, and then shook her head. "What? No! He just… We just yelled at each other for a bit, and then I left."

"Ah."

"It's just so frustrating," she complained, curling up against him once more and sliding her warm hands beneath the hem of his shirt, resting them there against his stomach. "He's being so stupid."

"Would you like me to hit him?" The offer was genuine, and he smirked a little at the thought of cracking the boy's jaw. However, Max seemed oblivious to his true intentions, and merely laughed it off.

"No, no, just don't… don't make it worse," she sighed, the tips of her nails making his skin prickle as they danced incoherent little patterns. "We'll sort ourselves out at some point… Not anytime soon, I guess."

"That boy is not worth your tears, my sweet," he murmured earnestly. It was the most honest thing he could say to her in regards to Ben and his ridiculous meddling. Besides, the less time she spent around the man, the better; Loki might one day explain his true identity to Max, but not without the abilities to prove himself.

"I like that."

"Hmm?"

She tilted her head up, a small smile on her lips. "What you called me… No one's ever called me that before."

Loki blinked, trying to recall what he had said – _my sweet_ had slipped out without him even thinking about it. Had they been on Asgard, or had this been a different time, he would have called her his lady. After all, even now, she was _his_ lady. However, that seemed inappropriate for the setting, and he had been trying to come up with a suitable pet-name for weeks now.

Apparently, his mouth had a mind of its own.

"My sweet," he purred, leaning down to nip at her lower lip. The woman giggled, and then dragged him down further by the front of his shirt.

* * *

Tony couldn't sleep.

In fact, he hadn't been able to sleep since he proposed to Pepper, and it was starting to bring him down more than usual. Normally, he could calm his mind for five or six hours per night in order to get into the deepest cycle of sleep, and yet lately he was lucky if he managed three. By the time Pepper was up to vomit her morning sickness into their fancy toilet, Tony had already been awake for hours – or he hadn't gone to sleep at all. He'd lied, naturally, about everything – it was all perfect. To Pepper, he was an excited fiancé and father-to-be. He started remodeling an entire floor in the tower for the sake of his upcoming child, who was still no larger than a walnut – or however that worked. Everyone else was excited; the Captain finally seemed to approve of their relationship now that they were getting married, and Thor demanded to plan the bachelor party. Bruce, on the other hand, kept his feelings close to his chest, and for that he was probably the most observant – Tony couldn't decide how he felt yet, and it kept him up at night.

Tonight, he had clocked a whopping two and a half hours of sleep before he rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb Pepper in the process. After stretching out his weary bones, he ended up drifting down to his workshop, filled with half-made Iron Man protocol suits and random bits of technology that Bruce hadn't put away before bed. After ordering Jarvis to make him something without caffeine, he settled down in front of his vast array of computers, running his hands across all the screens as they hummed to life.

One played some random television show he pretended to follow – it gave him a bit of the ordinary. The news chattered softly to his left, while on his far right a program scanned through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most recent recruitments to see if there was anyone worth paying attention to. Meanwhile, with the monitor in front of him, Tony skimmed through his emails. He paused when he came to one sent within the last ten minutes from Loki, and then frowned; apparently he wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

He tapped on the document, squinting a little as he read through the short message.

_Haven't a clue what the actual paper says, but the translation says that gangs in Bangkok are dissecting people and leaving the bodies on the streets. Sound familiar? I think you should try to get into their authority database… This is the first real concerning message I've found thus far. _

He scratched at his stubble, and then opened the link that the demoted demi-god had sent him. Just as Loki had said, article was written in Thai, but it would only take a matter of moments to break it with his software. As he did that, he ordered Jarvis to hack into the police files in Bangkok and other major cities, and to search for anything relevant to their case. The artificial-intelligence bot responded positively, and Tony stared at the grainy police photos that began appearing across his screens.

"Holy shit…"

The uncensored images that did _not_ reach the daily newspaper were pretty graphic: chests wide open, eyeballs missing. He swallowed thickly, and then darted across the room to the monitor that housed all of the information he routinely stole from S.H.I.E.L.D. As much as he didn't want to get them involved, he may feel better knowing that there was an agent out there investigating the incidents. It was in that moment that something triggered in his ever-racing mind: Natasha Romanoff.

He'd kept tabs on all of the Avengers crew, particularly after assassination attempts started to occur, and he remembered something about Agent Romanoff being sent to Asia. It wasn't that he particularly cared for the woman, but he somehow would have preferred her to be somewhere in northern Mongolia than…

"She's in Thailand, sir. Currently, Agent Barton has been reported to be with her."

Fuck. He stared at the monitor as a moving image of her face popped up; maybe it was time to bring S.H.I.E.L.D. into the loop.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**So, the Simpsons episode. It's called **_**The Squirt and the Whale**_**, and SPOILER ALERT – a whale washes up on the beach, Lisa finds her, and slowly watches her die. I remember watching it being like… WTF GUYS. WHY COULDN'T THE FUCKING WHALE JUST LIVE? YOU'RE A CARTOON SHOW, AND NOW I'M EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU'VE DONE.**

**Maybe not that dramatically, but I think I was also PMS-y and hungry and emotional. After I was done being a weirdo, I thought it might make a good bonding moment for Max and Loki. **

**I had plans to update sooner, but I had all fucking four of my wisdom teeth out this week, so I was in pain for a long time. I'm still all swollen and grumpy, but the time off made my wrists better, so I could get the typing done. So. Yeay. Good news - I planned out the sequel to the sequel of this in more detail recently. Quite dramatic. Max and Loki have a long way to go.  
**

**I LOVE YOU ALL. I WISH I COULD BE MORE CLEVER IN MY NOTES TODAY, BUT I'M ON PAINKILLERS. HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE CHAPTER REGARDLES OF MY YELLING NOW. **


	42. Next time, baby, I'll be bulletproof

"What the fuck is this?" Max squinted at her computer screen as her brother's pixelated image came into focus. "Where are you?"

It didn't look like the room he normally called her from, and considering she could see white pillows propped up behind him and the tell-tale signs of a hospital paint-job on the walls, the question was almost rhetorical.

_Almost._

She definitely needed some solid chat time with her brother. It wasn't as though Loki wasn't good for these sorts of talks, but Nolan _knew_ Ben, and had known the kid since high school. It was already the final week of January, and she had had several more verbal scuffles with Ben over their ridiculous situation; every single one of them ended with one person telling the other to apologize for being stupid, and then walking away in a huff. She hadn't been a part of any group outings because of the drama, and while Loki was perfectly happy to sit at home most evenings with the television and her company, Max wanted something a little more.

Work was starting to pile up again, as it always did midway through the start of a new term, and lately she had really just wanted a good night out at the bar. According to Tiffany, the gang had gone to do karaoke the week before, but hadn't extended an invitation because they worried about how Max would feel with Erica tagging along.

She hated it. The drama was escalating beyond any level she had experienced in recent years, and she absolutely loathed being a key player in this farce. A part of her was completely ready to apologize to her friend; he didn't really have a say in who he fell for, even if it was someone she despised. However, she knew she would need something from him, some sort of conceded point to show that he _understood_ how she felt with the whole situation. Thus far, Ben seemed to be stuck on the point that Max was some intolerant bitch who didn't want anyone new to join their group.

She wasn't, and that wasn't the fucking point.

Loki actually preferred to have the quieter nights in, and seemed mildly annoyed now whenever she brought Ben up; maybe he was sick of her dwelling on it? Whatever his reasoning might have been, Max felt as though she couldn't rant about it to him anymore, and after _finally_ getting an email back from Nolan, she arranged a Skype date to vent her frustration.

Loki, on the other hand, was using his evening off to go to the campus gym. It was a recent discovery, but one day he returned from classes with an idea in his head that he was going to start working out. Then, all of a sudden, he was there for almost an hour or two daily; not that Max was complaining, because the work-outs made his body look just… phenomenal. Even though he had reduced his hours at the bookstore, Loki now filled his evenings with night classes at the rec center, and while he seemed to enjoy himself, Max ended up feeling a little lonelier than usual in the apartment when he was gone.

So, even though he would be home in less than fifteen minutes, she had been looking forward to her chat with Nolan all day – it felt as though her evening had a purpose now.

"It's… uh…" Nolan trailed off as he gestured outward. "It's the hospital."

"Yeah, I figured as much," she snapped. "What are you doing in there? Are you okay? When did this happen? Have you talked to mom-"

"Max," he chuckled, fidgeting with his screen for a moment or two in order to give her a clearer picture. "Relax… It's nothing life-threatening."

"Then why are you in there?"

"Me and a buddy got hit on New Year's Eve-"

"_New Year's Eve_?"

"Again," he said firmly, "nothing life-threatening."

She let out a huff. Her entire body tensed at the thought of Nolan injuring himself severely enough to be in the hospital for almost _month_, and immediately wondered if she would actually get the whole truth about what had happened.

"Okay," she sighed, cracking her neck noisily and readjusting herself on the couch, legs now outstretched to the coffee table with her laptop on her lap. "I'm good… What happened?"

"So there was a bomber in the town we were passing through," her brother continued, and she immediately felt her eyes water. Did he even have a lower body anymore? Had something blown his foot off? "We saw the guy before he detonated, but we couldn't stop him… I took a couple of nails and some shrapnel in my leg, but that's it."

"Then why are you still in the hospital?" she inquired. She tried really, _really_ hard to keep her voice even.

"Greg got it worse than me," Nolan continued as though he hadn't heard the question, "but he's doing good. See, here's Greg…" She pressed her lips together firmly as he turned his laptop to the side for her to see the guy sitting in the bed next to him. This one had his shoulder and right arm bandaged, and was eating something out of a bowl with his free hand. "Say hey to my sister."

"Hey, Max!"

She smiled, nodding her head a few times as she waved weakly. "Greg… Hello." That was all she was going to give him; as much as she felt for the guy, she didn't give a shit about Greg. "So, why are you still in the hospital, Nolan? Have you called Mom and Dad?"

"I'm going to call them after," her brother insisted as he repositioned the laptop. "This is the first day that they've given us a laptop… So far it's just been really shitty TV and cards to get us through."

"Nolan."

"What?"

"Don't make my repeat myself," she snapped, arms folded across her chest and eyes still misty. "Why are you still-"

"The uh…" He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the subject matter. "The nails were all dirty and stuff, so I got an infection. It's fine though… They've got me on some sweet medication."

"How bad is the infection?" she asked, ignoring his attempt at a joke. His smile faltered, and he shrugged.

"I don't know… It took a couple of days for me to come to properly."

"So?

"Look," he lowered his voice, the tone suddenly taking a more serious note, "it was really bad for a bit. The doctor said I had sepsis, but they've got it under control. I'm still taking a lot of stuff to get better, but we've got it… Everything's fine, Max."

She hastily brushed a tear away, averting her gaze from the camera as her lower lip wobbled. "Well… fuck."

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner," he assured her. "This month has been shit, but I'm finally feeling better, and we're going to start physio for my leg sometime next week. It can only get better, you know?"

Max nodded quickly, and then squished the palms of her hands over her eyes in an attempt to keep from bawling like an idiot. A few deep breaths also seemed to do the trick, and when she could finally look at her brother again, he seemed a little grim.

"That…" She took a deep breath, the last one she needed. "That really sucks, man."

"Yeah… It does." Max watched him nod a few times, and then scratch at the back of his head. There was an IV needle taped onto the top of his hand, and she wondered what sort of crap they were pumping into his system. "So, you said you had drama to talk about?"

Drama? Max blinked stupidly for a moment, and then shook her head. How could she rant about her ridiculous fight with Ben when her brother was _actually_ dealing with real-world issues? It all seemed so petty – now more than before.

"I don't know… my stuff seems stupid now," she remarked sheepishly with a shrug. Her brother shot her a skeptical look, eyebrows up.

"Tell me."

A sigh slipped through her lips, and she found it a little difficult to actually make eye contact with him as she started. "Well, Ben's dating Erica-"

"Ugh, tramp."

Nolan grinned at her when she laughed, and she threw her hands up. "_Thank_ you!"

"Why would he even want to go there?"

"I _know_!" Relief washed over her when she realized this could be just a normal conversation, despite the setting her brother found himself in. "I don't know… We're sort of just at odds now, because he expects me to be her best friend, and he's mad that I'm not. And… Well, fuck, there's no way _that's_ happening."

Nolan nodded a few times, mulling over the situation from his end of the electronic conversation.

"How bad is it?"

"I don't think we've had a normal conversation since December," Max told him, frowning at the thought. "We just fight."

"It's dumb to lose a friend over someone like her-"

"I know, and it's not even over _her_, really," she sighed, rolling her eyes at the thought. "I'm mad at him for being a presumptuous ass."

"Big word."

"Fuck off," she laughed, glancing back toward the door when she heard a key wedged into the lock. "I think now we're both just fighting for the sake of fighting."

"That's stupid."

"Yeah…" She shot Loki a smile as he stepped in, shoulders and head covered in a light dusting of snow. A cold breeze accompanied him, and she tried to reach for the blanket at the other end of the couch. "Yeah, it is."

"That's high school bullshit, Max."

"I know," she muttered. "I just-"

"Get over yourselves," Nolan chastised. "If I was there, I'd just knock your heads together and lock you in a room until you sorted your shit out."

"Okay, _Mom_, I'll keep that in mind," she teased, smiling up at Loki as he sauntered toward her. He had his gym bag slung over his shoulder and was dressed in a St. Judith's sweater and a pair of track pants – he actually looked like a real student now. "Say hi to my brother."

He leaned down and planted a quick kiss to the side of her head before offering a smile toward laptop screen. She readjusted the rectangular screen to include him in the webcam's range.

"Nolan."

"Looking sweaty, Loki," her brother greeted, which made her roommate chuckle softly.

"Yeah, he finally discovered that he gets to use to rec center for free," Max insisted. "It only took four months." She tilted her head to look up at him again. "How are you still sweaty? Didn't you walk home?"

"Jogged, actually," he told her as he tugged his hair out of the hilariously tiny ponytail he could now make with its length. "It's a good way to cool down."

"Gross."

"Now, what's this?" Loki leaned forward, arched over the back of the couch as he surveyed her computer screen. "Don't you live in some sort of tent over there?"

Max shot him a look. "Nice."

"Well, he's not completely wrong," Nolan chuckled, which made Loki smirk. "I got moved to the hospital earlier this month… Got some shrapnel stuck in my leg."

"Oh."

"And then a massive infection that could have killed him without us ever knowing," Max ranted quickly, which made her brother roll his eyes, "but no big deal."

Loki cleared his throat. "All's well now, is it not?"

"Yeah, I'm doing fine," Nolan replied. "Don't let her get hysterical-"

"Mom's going to be worse, you know?" Max snapped. "I'm going to have to listen to her cry on the phone for an hour after you guys talk now."

"It's because I'm her favourite."

"Shut up."

"I'm off to shower," Loki interrupted, clearly not interested in listening to siblings squabble. "I wish you a quick recovery, Nolan."

"Thanks, man."

Max smiled up at him as he squeezed her shoulder and then disappeared down the hall.

"Are you guys doing it again?"

"Eww, don't say that," she hissed, hands covering her ears as a horrified look crossed her face.

"Okay, _screwing_-"

"That's even worse!" She shivered dramatically as he chortled at his own immaturity on the other end of the computer screen. "We're dating… officially."

"Nice," he said, his smile genuine. "Virtual fist-bump, bro. You got that on lockdown."

"You're actually a fifteen year old," Max laughed. Despite her teasing, she still managed to make a fist and pretend to bump it against her brother's, and both followed that with the characteristic finger explosion-dance afterward.

"So, I have to get going." He held up his hands at Max's expression. "We only get a few hours with this thing, and I still have to call home, and then Greg needs to make the rounds with his family."

"Fine."

"I'll ask to get it once or twice a week so we can talk more often," he promised. "It's not like there's have anything better to do… TV is shit in here."

"Do you have hot nurses at least?" Max inquired with a weak laugh, her chest tightening and throat tickling again at the thought of him signing off – resigned to sit in that hospital bed without his family for God knows how long.

Her brother cocked his head to the side, eyes toward the ceiling as he gave a dramatic thought to her question.

"Well, the guy who changes my IV is a looker," he said finally, which earned a laugh from Greg in the background. "The hot ones are up in radiology, and I don't get to go there anymore…"

"I hear the physio chicks are pretty hot, actually."

"Thanks for the contribution, Greg," Max sighed loudly, rolling her eyes when she spotted her brother exchange an excited look with his roommate. "Okay, well…"

"I'll tell Dad not to let Mom call you after we talk," her brother insisted. "I know they're both going to be upset, but if you two fight, it'll make it worse."

"Hey!"

"You know you'd pick a fight with her once the novelty of talking about this goes away," he told her, and she couldn't quite find a fault in his argument. So, she offered a resigned nod, arms folded across her chest.

"Fine."

"I'll email you sometime soon about when we can talk again," Nolan promised. "Hopefully next week."

She nodded again. "I'll keep you updated on Ben-"

"Just go apologize, and tell him to do the same," her brother said quickly. "This is the stupidest drama you've ever been a part of. Get over it."

Her eyes narrowed a little. "_Okay_."

"Love you!" His voice came out in a sing-song manner, and she couldn't help but smile – it was almost impossible to stay frustrated with the guy for long.

"I love you too," she said firmly. "Get better… No more infections."

"The drugs are doing all the work, I promise," he told her with a chuckle. "Talk soon."

"Yup."

"Bye."

Max gave a final wave and smile, mirroring his actions, and then waited until he closed the video chat. From there, she let out a deep sigh, staring at the blank screen for a minute or so before she finally shut her laptop and set it aside.

She wasn't entirely sure how to feel about all the new information she had to process; they knew there was a possibility that Nolan could end up wounded, especially when he was shipped off for active duty. However, Max had always seen it as an all-or-nothing scenario: dead or alive. This was in-between, and in a way, she disliked it more. He might have put on a brave face, but she was sure he was in a fair amount of pain still.

In the past, they had been a little lazy with keeping in touch, but not anymore; Max intended to harass him weekly for updates, even if they couldn't do it face-to-face.

The TV hummed to life at the click of a button, and Max reached for the nearby blanket as she stared at the picture in front of her. Her mind raced, and she wasn't even really sure what she was watching. Ten minutes flew by as though they were nothing, and she eventually changed the channel away from a Portuguese program to one she could actually understand.

"So, how is he?"

She flinched at Loki's sudden reappearance in the hall nearby, and when Max glanced back over her shoulder at him, her eyebrows shot up. There he was, half-naked, wrapped in a towel, slightly wet, and deliciously toned from a mere two weeks at the gym.

"Good God, look at you," she snapped, pointing down at his abs. "When did those appear?"

"I…" He trailed off as he glanced down at himself. "They've always been there."

"Yeah," she laughed as she switched off the TV. "_Okay_."

"They have," he protested, frowning a little as she rose and stalked toward him.

"Well, I've never seen them like this," Max insisted, trailing a finger down his abdomen and smirking when he twitched. She glanced up at him, wide-eyed and suggestive. "You know what this means, right?"

"I haven't quite been following this conversation-"

"We're _going_ to have to have sex now," she sighed, shaking her head and giving them another appreciative stare. "There's just no getting out of it."

"Okay-"

His words were muffled as she leaned up on the tips of her toes to kiss him. There may have been a million other things her mind _should_ have been preoccupied with at the moment, but it was definitely easier just to focus on Loki and his abs.

It took him a moment or so to actually respond, but once he had, her body squirmed with excitement when he hoisted her up to wrap her legs around his waist. He lifted her like she was nothing; Max giggled as she pressed firm kisses along his jawline, arms wrapped snugly around him. Once he had walked them back to his room, he set her down on his desk, pushing papers and textbooks aside in a flurry of movement. He was a little gentler with the computer monitor, which he merely eased back against the wall as Max dragged her sweater up and off.

They both went for her pants next; Max's fingers fiddled with the button and zipper of her jeans as Loki started yanking them down her legs. He ripped them off with some flourish, tossing them out into the hallway, and was back to her lips in a heartbeat, which she willingly parted with a soft moan. Contrary to what they had been earlier, his hands were warm now, no longer leaving goosebumps in their wake as they traveled down her waist.

She inhaled sharply when he cupped her, breaking their kiss to throw her head back. His lips, in turn, went for her neck, and Max lifted her hips at his silent insistence; her underwear soon joined her jeans out in the hall. He was such a quick learner; Max had to marvel at how quickly he had picked up the little techniques that made her tremble with delight.

He had talented hands.

She swallowed shakily as his lips traveled southward to her collarbone, the palm of his hand working her into frenzied need already, and without thinking, she reached for the towel around his waist. A soft cry slipped out when he smacked her hands away, taking his attention from her clit to shoot her a glare.

"Not yet, harlot."

Her jaw dropped, and she smacked his shoulder. "Did you just call me a wh-"

Before she could finish the word, he had slipped two fingers into her, and Max clutched at his shoulders, her eyes shut tightly. He chuckled against her skin as he found a torturous pace, tormenting the spots that he _knew_ made her limbs quiver as she sprawled helplessly across his desk, fingers dug into his shoulders and heels resting on his back.

Just as she started to feel the tell-tale signs of a build toward a climax, he pulled out of her, and Max scoffed lightly. He merely offered her a wolfish grin in return, dragging her by the undersides of her knees from the desk. Her body continued to tingle, eager for more and distressed at the pause. Loki turned her sharply, and she smirked a little when she felt him stumble over the clasp of her bra; for everything he had mastered since they started having sex, he still fumbled with the bra.

"I wish you wouldn't wear these things," he muttered irritably. Max laughed.

"Oh, I don't think so." She grinned when he finally undid the thing. "Some women really, really need these to hold theirs goods in place-"

He gave her a shove toward the bed, and she turned back just as he tossed his towel aside. This time, he let her touch him, and Max ran her hand along his length, paying extra attention to the sensitive head; she only thought it fair to return his teasing with some of her own. However, before she could get very far, he had her on the bed, his body nestled between her thighs and his lips to her neck.

All thoughts of Ben, her brother, and school stressors were gone as he filled her with a single thrust, opting to take her hard and quick. He slammed into her so soundly that her teeth almost chattered, and she pressed a trembling hand to the wall behind them in an attempt to keep the bed from ramming against it. Her cries caught in her throat, and she heard Loki groan against her.

"I didn't do all that work for you to be _quiet_," he hissed, nipping at her breast. A hand fisted in her hair, and Max gasped as he yanked her head back. Her hips started to match his thrusts, and she could feel the slow build again, though there were little bursts of pleasure each time he pounded against her. His pace quickened to the point where Max couldn't keep her moans silent, and at his heady demands, she let herself be vocal about her needs.

When she came, however, her cry was breathless and soft, eyes shut as pleasure pulsated throughout her limbs. He followed shortly after, his grasp finally loosening on her hair as he groaned noisily. They both lay together for a moment, his face buried against her neck as she held him, both scrambling to catch their breath.

"God, we were so loud," she sighed as he rolled off her, a hand pressed to her forehead. Her cheeks flamed at the thought of their neighbours hearing a rather aggressive session of sex, but then arched an eyebrow at Loki when he laughed.

"Yes, we were," he admitted, settling onto his back at her side. Max turned to face him, arms folded to her chest, and he smiled down at her. "But the bedroom next to mine has been _so_ awfully noisy this last week… I thought it only fair to return the gesture."

She gawked at him, and then smacked his shoulder in an attempt to look scandalized. "You made me loud on _purpose_?!"

"Now, now, my sweet," he teased as he tugged her toward him by the waist. Max propped herself up on his chest in response, chin resting on her hands. "I may have… prompted you to share your enthusiasm, but you were the one making all the noise."

"Uh huh." She shot him a skeptical look, and then leaned her head to the side to observe him in his relaxed state.

"Now, before all of this," he began, his fingers trailing up and down the length of her spine, "I had asked how your brother fared… Was I merely a distraction from your worries?" She swallowed thickly, and then gave a small nod. "Ah, I had thought so."

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "I just don't like not knowing the whole truth, you know?"

"I understand." He moved on to fiddling with her hair. "However, if it was worse than he let on, I suspect you would know… There is this awful feeling we get when a sibling spares us our feelings."

She blinked up at him a few times, momentarily taken aback that he mentioned his brother on his own volition, and then nodded once more. "Yeah, I guess." She brought her hands up to rake through his hair, and then smirked. "Your hair is too short for that stupid ponytail you make with it."

He scoffed lightly, and then swatted her away. "I think it's just fine… Don't you dare touch it again, woman."

"When it gets unreasonable, the scissors are coming out," she threatened. She then nodded toward the door, an eyebrow raised. "You got it in you to have another shower?" He hesitated, and she leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips. "I'll make it worth your while…"

"Well," he started as she eased off him, tugging at his hand as she went, "when you use such persuasive arguments…"

* * *

"Yeah, this does not look promising," Jane Foster muttered as they stood before the ruined building. "Are you sure they're still alive?"

Steve shook his head as he took in the damage, and then glanced back sharply over his shoulder when someone knocked into him. He exchanged wary looks with Thor, and then reached for the cellular telephone in his pocket. Jane, meanwhile, turned and marched toward a nearby fruit-stand.

At Stark's insistence, Thor, Jane and Steve had hopped on a private plane to Thailand the previous morning. After taking a quick stopover in Hawaii, the small team were off with orders to find Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton. Apparently, they had been on assignment in the country's capital, and a few weeks prior Loki had sent them news reports of hollowed bodies. Shocked at the brutality, Steve and the rest of them had assumed that it was the first real evidence that the Pagurolid race had infiltrated the general population. It took them some time to formulate a way to respond, but after Stark and Banner did whatever research they needed, a plan needed to be made.

Thus far, they had played their game pretty close to the chest. Steve had learned S.H.I.E.L.D. liked to keep secrets, and perhaps it was time the Avengers kept a few of their own. However, with Romanoff and Barton's lives at risk, they could no longer keep the organization out of the loop. Stark remained hesitant to inform the agency of the new terror the planet could face if they didn't find a way to contain the spread, but Steve had left the very talented Miss Potts with an assignment of her own when he left for the airport: get Stark to talk. They were dealing with _aliens_ here; the more help they had, the better.

"Perhaps they were far from here when this happened?" Thor mused, and Steve quickly snapped a picture of the desecrated building that was _supposed_ to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. base in the downtown hub of Bangkok. Apparently, someone had seen to its destruction a few weeks earlier.

"Yeah, let's hope," Steve muttered as he punched in Stark's number and held the phone to his ear. He listened as it rang for a few moments, all the while taking in his surroundings. He had never been to Thailand before – or anywhere in the East for that matter – and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. The heat was a bit much, and it was only January.

"What's wrong?" Stark's voice crackled through the earpiece, and Steve let out a sigh.

"Someone blew up the building," he informed the man. "It's taped off and missing the top half… You need to bring Fury into this now."

"I just want to-"

"This is a S.H.I.E.L.D. building," he said firmly. "My guess is that they already know something's happened, and it's only going to help us if we combine resources."

"You sound like Pepper," Stark muttered.

"The lady over there says it was a gas leak," Jane said suddenly upon her return. "Well, that's what the paper said anyway…"

"Did you hear that, Stark?" Steve asked. Thor turned and began to walk away from the building, and Jane quickly followed. Steve marched a step behind them; if an enemy had taken down the building, it would be best not to linger in plain sight.

He was a clever one, this Asgardian.

"What?"

"Papers say it was a gas leak," he repeated. "Are Natasha and Barton still listed as active field agents?"

"Give me a second." Steve noticed a trio of local men watching them from a table at a café as they passed, but Thor's pace left no room to interruptions. He probably wanted to get them back to their hotel and off the streets. Steve looked over his shoulder from a safer distance, but by then the men had disappeared, their coffee cups still in place. Stark's voice brought his attention back. "Yeah, they're still listed as alive… Though there are no records of their location after Bangkok."

"Call Fury," Steve ordered. "We'll be in touch when we have a plan."

He hung up before the man could protest. After slipping the phone back into his pocket, he jogged to catch up with his companions, filling them in on the situation as he marched by Jane's side.

"So what now?" she asked.

"We cannot simply wait for the Director and his men to attend to the issue," Thor remarked softly, hands clasped behind his back. "We must find them ourselves."

Steve nodded, mind a mess with probabilities and possibilities. They were here with a team – where had the team gone? Had there been a division? A mutiny of sorts? Was their absence even remotely related to the possible Pagurolid issue?

"We should go to bus stations," Jane said suddenly. "If we can get some pictures of them to show officials, maybe we can see if they've passed through… Buses, trains, airports. If we have the credentials and look official enough, I'm sure we can get through security."

Steve watched his burly Asgardian companion give the woman a soft smile, and he cleared his throat and nodded when she looked at him. He had been somewhat hesitant about her presence on the assignment, but Thor had wanted her close enough to keep an eye on; maybe she would prove useful yet.

He reached into his pocket, and Jane offered to show him the redial button quickly to save him the time.

"Stark?" he said as soon as he heard a secure connection. "We're going to need a few things from you…"

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**GUYS. GUYS. Things might actually be starting to come to an end… I went back over my list of chapter ideas and the general plot flow, and we may only have ten or so left. Maybe. (Edit: More like fifteen, now that I've actually gone back and counted after some sad reviews. I just don't want to make pointless chapters that turn people off from the plot. Even IF character development is important.) I've fleshed out the Avengers plot more now than I had initially planned, so that adds a little bit here and there. But yeah. Shit may actually happen now.**

**The title for the sequel, to anyone who is interested, is either going to be called one of the following: **_**Titanium; Fire Away; Ghost Town**_**… or something else thought of closer to the time when I write the first chapter. As you can guess, inspiration initially for the sequel came while listening to **_**Titanium**_** by David Guetta, so maybe that can give you some clues as to the future stories for Loki and Max. **

**And others.**

**ANYWHO. The next chapter is planned already, and after I update my other Loki story, I'll be working on it. Maybe a week or two from now. **

**LOVE YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONSTANT BARRAGE OF SUPPORT AFTER EACH UPDATE. IT MAKES MY HEART SWELL WITH LOVE. **


	43. Gymtastic

Loki liked the gym. He never would have thought that there could be a building in all of Masonville that he felt more comfortable in than Max's apartment, but he was starting to think that the campus recreation center might give the apartment some competition. He had found it on a fluke the first time around; initially, he was supposed to meet Garret for lunch at some obscure building that he had never heard of before – apparently, there was an excellent, little-known cafeteria inside. Naturally, Loki became lost the moment he stepped out of his regular routine footpaths, and somehow ended up at the fairly large gymnasium at the south end of the St. Judith campus.

At first, he hadn't the slightest idea what the purpose of the building was. However, when he ventured inside, he discovered that it was much like the training arena he had frequented with Thor in the days when they were on better terms. There were weights, spears, and other various machines on which one could develop one's body. Loki quickly learned that some of the items weren't weapons – though exercise rods did look remarkably like dulled spears – but that did not diminish his interest in the place. After all, now that he had a fraction of his former strength back, he felt the need to use it; it almost pained his body to sit around all day when he now had the ability to lift a car with ease.

So, in order to vent his frustrations, excess energy, and stamina, Loki visited the gymnasium at least once a day. Sometimes he went between classes, but more often than not he was there in the late afternoon and into the early evening. He had cut back his shifts at the bookstore considerably, as he no longer needed the money, and instead found a niche in the gym. There were some people using the machines who simply saw it as a way to socialize with other health conscientious friends, but not Loki. No, he had managed to find a group of men who were just as serious about exercising as he pretended to be. None of them really talked much, but they spotted for one another on certain machines, and Loki pretended to struggle with the heaviest weights in order to facilitate some sort of camaraderie.

He liked this place, and even if he liked his nights with Max more, he was pleased to have finally found a place where he felt superior than most. It wasn't even his strength that gave him his superiority, though it certainly helped. Instead, Loki merely found that his previous training in combat came back without much effort, and he knew precisely when and how to push himself. There was a track around the second level of the entire building – an indoor running track – that Loki frequented at the start of each session, and he found that he had his most articulate thoughts when he ran.

Now that the Avengers had found him, and Stark saw fit to monitor his computer activities, he had absolutely no chance of getting back to Asgard on his own. He stopped trying in his biology class, no longer keen to impress the professor connected with Earth's space program, though he still liked to perform better than his peers. In order to get anywhere, he would simply have to endure his punishment and genuinely _appreciate_ the human race. Max made it easy to like _some_ facets of their society, but he still found himself struggling with the entire species as a whole; there were so many dolts wandering the streets.

He was trying – honest and true – to see what Thor saw in these people, but it was difficult to look beyond his woman to the rest of the wide world. Everyone else seemed superfluous and unnecessary. Regardless, he would continue to try; Garret had managed to carve a small spot in Loki's mind as an acceptable being, and if those outside of his apartment could do it, surely his patience for the rest of them would develop. He was learning patience. He had always considered himself a patient man, but it seemed this punishment had really taught him how to embody the trait right down to his core.

Well, he was patient with certain elements of his new life, but not with others. He had been waiting to get on a bike for almost forty minutes now, and he almost considered leaving. It was coming down to the end of his two hour stint at the gym, and he knew Max had a pizza waiting for him at home. However, it felt almost… wrong not to do every part of his usual routine, and the bike was part of that. Unfortunately, a barrage of young woman had come in after he had finished with the weights, and took it upon themselves to occupy every bike and elliptical in sight. In those forty minutes, Loki had managed to find other machines to utilize, but hopped off them whenever he spied a free bike.

_However_, whenever he jogged over to the bike area, which overlooked the pool, it seemed that the previous free bike had found a new rider, and he was once again forced to do something else. He glanced at the clock on the nearby wall, and then wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. It was nearly six, and it would take Max about forty minutes to have the pizza delivered…

He sighed irritably and shot each woman on a bike a glare before he stalked away. Rather than wandering over to another machine, Loki decided to get a quick drink from the fountain by the changing rooms.

In order to get there, he needed to exit the main equipment area, which was actually a relief – the stench of sweat was especially potent today. He almost groaned when he spied someone hunched over at the metallic fountain, but merely fished his new I-Pod music player from the depths of his shorts' pocket and changed the tune. It had been a gift from Max; his most recent lie was that his birthday was over Christmas break and he simply hadn't told anyone. It had slipped before he could stop himself, but at the time she was going on about hosting another party at their apartment for his day of birth and the thought was extremely off-putting.

The gift was unnecessary, naturally, but he appreciated it all the same. It certainly was not the most modern of the music playing gadgets out there, but it was small enough to be worn when he exercised, and that was what he wanted. Since then, she had been filling it with songs that she thought he might like, which he also valued. The woman continued to teach him things; it was much easier to understand references when he was up on trend with the latest in popular music, though he privately decided he liked the older tunes more.

When the fountain was free, Loki stooped over it for a drink, relishing the freezing temperatures that this particular fountain's water always had. When he straightened, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Tiffany standing remarkably close to him, her hands planted squarely on her hips and a concerning expression on her face.

"You frightened me," Loki admitted honestly. Where had she even appeared from? A quick sweep of her clothing and sweaty face indicated that she too had been using the gymnasium facilities; he simply must not have noticed her.

"We need to talk," she told him, and he reached into his pocket to turn his music player off completely. "First of all, you never say hi to me when you're here."

He blinked down at her; the tiny, somewhat squat woman was such a marvel – she could inspire fear into the heart of any man with her glare.

"I… This was the first time I've actually seen you here," he assured her, "or I would have certainly extended my greetings to you."

"Well, I'm always on the elliptical," she told him, and he pressed his lips together in an attempt to stop his amused smirk before she saw it. "You're just always so plugged in…" The woman then snatched one of the earbuds from his ear, to which he scowled. "There, now it's a real conversation."

"Sorry," he muttered as he stuffed everything into his pocket. Apparently he could do no right in her eyes today. "Is there something you wished to discuss aside from my rudeness?"

Her hard gaze seemed to soften somewhat after the apology, and he deduced that polite courtesy would continue to be the way to get the woman on his side. "Max and Ben."

"Ah." _That_ was not necessarily a subject he wished to broach, particularly when this fight worked so well in his favour. "I think it best to leave them to their own-"

"They're miserable without each other," Tiffany ranted, rolling her eyes a little as she crossed her arms over her chest, which still seemed quite large even in a loose t-shirt. "Ben misses her." Loki resisted the urge to scoff and shrug – how was this his problem? "And Max misses him, and you _know_ she'd be happier if they were talking."

"Hmm."

"So," she started, leaning toward him as though it were some sort of secret, "I think it's up to me and you to stage an intervention." He frowned. "You know… Get them talking again!"

He took a step back, and his lip twitched as she followed. "I really don't want to get involved in-"

"Max will be so happy when they've kissed and made up!" His jaw dropped a little, and she waved his concern off quickly. "You know, not literally… figuratively."

He took a deep breath – _this_ was a prime example of why humans were so difficult to like. "I really don't think-"

"_I_ will be really happy if you help me out here," she told him slowly, articulating each word as she stared up at him. "Would you rather I be angry with you too?"

"No," Loki said quickly, his frown deepening. Was he about to be bullied into something by a woman half his height? He threw his shoulders back, ready to engage in some sort of verbal sparring, but at that moment her eye twitched just menacingly enough for him to back down. "What… did you have in mind?"

Fine. Even if they were talking, there was enough doubt planted in Max's mind not to believe anything Ben said in regards to Loki. Besides, there was no real guarantee that Max would even forgive the man. As Tiffany prattled on about various schemes and plots she had concocted over the course of the last week, he thought of ways he could counteract anything Ben might eventually say to Max about… well, the truth. He would simply need to make the man's jealousy of their relationship, which seemed to be currently masked by Erica, more apparent than ever.

He smirked at the thought, and then forced an attentive expression onto his face, nodding along to whatever Tiffany ordered of him. At this point, it was easier to comply than fight it; Max would be quite upset if he soiled another friendship within her group of companions.

* * *

"This country is so depressing," Clint muttered, forehead wrinkled as he stared out the train's rattling window. "Look… _more_ Birch trees. No wonder you guys lost the Cold War."

Natasha offered a forced chuckle as she continued to monitor the blinking red dot on her phone's screen, her feet propped up on the edge of his seat. "Your hilarity knows no bounds, Barton."

"I try."

"The joke was funnier the first time you said it," she commented, exiting her tracking screen and slipping the thin mobile device back into her pocket. She shot Clint a look with her arms folded across her chest, and then arched an eyebrow. "Any more jokes in your arsenal? We still have another four days to Moscow…"

"If we had jumped on a plane like I wanted-"

"22 took the train, so we take the train," Natasha snapped. They had had this same fight repeatedly since they left Beijing, and she wasn't in the mood to bicker about it for the rest of their trip. "He's in Omsk now – he's definitely still on the railway."

"I hate trains," he insisted moodily, leaning back in his seat and fiddling with the sandwich wrapper on the tray between them. "I think I get train-sick…"

"You're a terrible agent then." She smirked when he glared at her. "Or maybe it was the pork-"

"I _knew_ that stuff wasn't cooked properly," he ranted, throwing his hands up irritably and shaking his head. "You shouldn't have let me eat it."

She let out a sigh; this was going to be a long trip. They had been on the move for weeks now, always a few days behind Agent 22 and his men. They had initially tracked him to a bunker in Chiang Mai, but when they discovered several hollowed bodies and no 22, they realized they needed to keep on the trail. It was by sheer luck that the man hadn't discarded of his shoes yet; Natasha may have been able to access her bank accounts, but they thought it unwise to get in touch with S.H.I.E.L.D. about their current situation, which meant they were mostly weaponless. After all, Clint had said it right the first time – 22 _was_ S.H.I.E.L.D., and if he was part of something much grander than Thai gangs and empty corpses, he wasn't about to let them spill his secrets without a fight.

So, when they had emptied one of her savings accounts, stocked up on supplies, and bought some basic travel gear, the duo decided to follow 22 until he stopped moving. Thus far, he hadn't stopped. He traveled from Thailand to Laos, and then up to China. The pair tracked him to Beijing, and when Natasha realized his new movement matched that of the Trans-Mongolian railway, which she knew would eventually give way to the Trans-Siberian railway, she realized he was probably making a go for Russia. He was headed across her home country via the most indirect route possible, but that only made sense. The man must have had some inkling that they were tracking him, and perhaps thought taking a train would make it more difficult to do so.

The man was a fool, and she hated the idea that someone in Russia was aiding him. Well, hated it, yes, but she wasn't entirely surprised. There were many enemies of her organization scattered across the land that she once called home, and she had numbed herself to the thought years ago. Natasha liked to live in the moment, and in this moment, she needed to find 22 and haul his traitorous ass in for questioning – first she would do it herself, then Clint could have a go, and only then would they hand the guy over to Fury for whatever the Director had in mind.

"That pork is coming out," Clint said suddenly, rousing Natasha from her concentrated musings, "one way or the other."

"Fantastic."

"Quickie in the bathroom beforehand?" He wiggled his eyebrows when she glanced up at him, disgust evident across her features. "I'm kidding, Nat."

"I'll make up the beds," she said distractedly. They both cleaned their little table and tucked it away, and with garbage in hands, Clint disappeared from their cabin. He was accustomed to her when they were on a mission – he wasn't about to take offense if he didn't hold her full attention all the time.

The sun was starting to set across the trees, which raced by the window as they plowed along through the Siberian countryside. They had practically lived on the train for three days now, and setting up their sleeping quarters was so routine at that point that she barely noticed what she was doing anymore. Beds, blankets, pillows – one on each side of the train compartment. They had fucked on the train, but they still managed to sleep separately.

She thumbed through her small backpack, and then smirked when she heard the door slid open.

"Was there a line?" she asked. "Because that was really..." She trailed off when she spotted a face other than Clint's staring back at her in the window's reflection. "… quick."

Her hand delved deep into her bag, and before the burly fellow had time to react, she had flung a small blade across the compartment and into his shoulder. He winced, glancing down at it, but seemed unfazed as he tugged it out and tossed it aside. Natasha reacted defensively; it was a small space, but there was enough room for her to crouch down to prepare herself for the onslaught of his attack. The man hastily removed his thick leather belt and flicked it at her; she barely flinched when it snapped noisily. Instead, she waited. There were a number of bars that she could use as leverage against him, and she was surely quicker on her feet in an enclosed space.

As expected, the man lunged, and it was fairly obvious that he had hoped to strangle her with the belt. Natasha dodged his clumsy fists deftly, and then threw her full force into a sharp jab to his wounded shoulder. The man winced once more, but simply swung back. She frowned when she noticed his eyes darting this way and that, completely out of sync with the way his limbs flailed.

Fortunately, she wasn't left to contend with him for long. As she hiked herself up into the farthest corner of the compartment, Clint sauntered back in. He said nothing as he leapt upon her assailant, and with a muscular arm wrapped around the man's neck, she watched her partner strangle the life out of him.

"You okay?" Clint asked as he dropped the body to the ground. Natasha nodded and slid down from her current location in the corner of the compartment; she had barely even broken a sweat.

"Yeah, he didn't touch me."

"They make 'em big here," he observed, head cocked to the side as he studied her assailant. "You think he was with 22?"

"Probably," she muttered. "He's the worst assassin I've ever seen."

"Well, we have seen some pretty bad ones-"

"No, he was uncoordinated, unfocused, and clearly untrained," she insisted, ticking off each trait with her fingers. "It was like he thought he could just walk up to me and wrap his belt around my neck."

"Hey, some assholes are overconfident."

She shook her head at the comment: it wasn't _just_ that. Natasha had dealt with overzealous dicks for almost her entire life, especially as a female field agent, but this guy was different. He might have been big, but it was like he lacked control over his arms – he must have been on something.

Regardless of the man's terrible skills at combat, Natasha still flinched when a hand latched onto her ankle. She heard Clint curse as he darted down to contain the threat, and she tried to do as much damage as possible when she slammed the heel of her boot into the man's face. He remained, just as before, completely unfazed to their assault, and it took the pair a good half hour to finally kill him.

* * *

"Hey, who's Stark?"

Loki looked up sharply at her as Max leaned against his doorway. "What?"

"It says you have a missed call from Stark," she informed him, holding out the phone that had been vibrating moments earlier on the kitchen counter. "Is that a nickname for Garret?"

"Shockingly," he droned as he snatched the device out of her hand and tossed it into his gym bag, "I happen to know more people in this world beyond your group of friends."

She laughed, holding up her hands as a surrender to his saucy remark, and then folded her arms across her chest. "So, who is he?"

"A friend from England," he muttered absently. He then wrenched open his drawer and grabbed a grey St. Judith's t-shirt, and Max pursed her lips as he slipped it over his head: it was always sad to see his toned upper body disappear. "I'll call him when we get back later."

Max nodded, and then drifted back toward her bedroom to grab her bag. She had somehow let Loki and Tiffany coax her into taking an evening class at the gym with them; apparently they had become gym buddies over the last week when they both realized they were there almost every day. Tiffany had insisted she come try the Zumba class with her, whereas Loki told her than he planned to be there in spirit, but there would be no Zumba for him. Instead, he pushed his usual work-out to later in the evening so that they could drive there together.

Now, Zumba definitely wasn't her thing. In fact, most of the gym wasn't really her thing. She had been blessed – and potentially cursed – with a bean-pole body since birth, and beyond a few light exercises here and there, she had never really had to try much to stay in relatively decent shape. Tiffany, on the other hand, absolutely loved going to the gym, and had tried to get Max there for years. The only reason she gave in now was that Loki seemed to be such a gym-bird himself these days, and she figured it could possibly turn into something they did together.

Mind you, she didn't necessarily want to encroach on his personal activities, but he had seemed enthusiastic about her going, so she decided this one time couldn't hurt. So, Max had dressed in a pair of stretchy pants and the feminized version of Loki's St. Judith's t-shirt, and decided that no matter how difficult the work-out, she was going to put on a smile and keep her complaints to herself. Zumba was supposed to be fun, wasn't it?

"Are you sure you don't want to get your dance on with us ladies?" Max chuckled as they met in the hallway, smirking up at him when he scoffed. "I hear it gives you great legs."

"Well, then I don't see why you need to do it," Loki muttered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and planting a kiss atop her head. "You know how fond I am of your legs."

Her stomach squirmed pleasurably at the insinuation, and she arched an eyebrow. "You know… We could just stay here and-"

"You can't flirt your way out of everything, Wright," he told her, and she let out a giggle when he slapped her behind firmly. "You're going to the gym."

"_Fine_," she sighed, eyes roving over his body as he marched ahead of her, "but I'll need some form of payment for enduring Zumba… _maybe_ in the form of sex, preferably chocolate."

"Your demands are outrageous and I won't hear of them anymore."

She laughed again when he stole another kiss, and then snatched her car keys out of her hand. Max cocked her head to the side, an eyebrow up, and nodded down at them. "And what do you think you're doing with those?"

"It's been a while since you let me drive," he insisted. "I thought I might take us there?"

"Did you now?"

"Come, it's a Wednesday evening," Loki reasoned as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of her winter coat. "I'll be very careful."

She nibbled her lower lip, eyes darting between his hopeful expression and the keychain in his hand, and then sighed. "Fine, but if you speed-"

"I'll stay precisely at the limit," he assured her, and then stuffed his feet into his runners. "I only get better with practice."

"Hmm." She rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag. "Maybe you should go take the test then and make all this practice legal."

"One step at a time, my sweet…" He shot her a grin. "One step at a time."

With the issue of driving sorted, Max shooed him out of the house and locked up, though she remained somewhat hesitant about him driving her anywhere. The sun may have set, and a somewhat warm last week of January meant things were more wet than icy, but she still worried about him on the road. However, as they walked hand-in-hand across the parking lot, Loki chuckling at a story she had for him about a student's essay she had just marked, her worries eased away. He was perfectly fine on the road, and seeing as the evening "rush" through downtown Masonville had faded away, she had very little to worry about.

He did speed a little, but Max's throat clearing and crossed arms managed to get him back under the limit. Their jaunt over to the gymnasium only took them about fifteen minutes, as they had to drive around campus rather than through it. Her eyes flickered over to the digital clock above the car radio; they were about half an hour early for Zumba – she hadn't even noticed. A frown crossed her lips when Loki parked the car at the far end of the parking lot, and she shook her head.

"Something wrong with the spots up front?" she asked lightly. "Or are you just up for a hike to get there?"

Loki remained silent for a moment as he turned the car off, and then faced her directly. "Please don't be angry with me."

Her frown deepened, and she cautiously undid her seatbelt. "It's fine, I don't mind walking-"

"No, not about that," he sighed, and then gestured toward the windshield. Her eyes widened as she followed his gaze.

"What the hell?" she snapped when she spotted Tiffany hauling Ben across the parking lot toward them.

"As I said," Loki reiterated weakly. "Please don't be angry with me… This was entirely _her_ idea."

"So you were just the lackey who went along with it?" Max huffed irritably as the pair approached her car, and then turned her head away when Loki tried to kiss her cheek. "I don't need some stupid intervention."

"Right," he said shortly. "I'll be waiting inside when you're finished."

She shot him a look as he climbed out of the car: _he_ had no reason to be snippy with her when _he_ was the one who had tricked her into coming here. In his place, Tiffany pushed Ben's lithe frame into the driver's seat, and her friend held up a finger as Max tried to snap at her.

"You two are _miserable_ when you're fighting," she insisted, hunched over and glaring at them both. Ben fiddled with the zipper of his black jacket, but remained silent. "It's been really frustrating for us to pick sides, and you both just need to get over yourselves and sort this out."

"Tiff, it really isn't any of your-"

"Business?" her friend finished for her. "When I have to listen to it from both of you _all the time_, it becomes my business. Sort. Your. Shit. Out."

Max folded her arms across her chest and glared out at Loki, who now stood in front of the car with his gym bag slung over his shoulder and hands in his pockets.

"Fine," she snapped, shaking her head. "Just go away."

"You have twenty minutes, and then Zumba," Tiff told her, and then slammed the car door noisily to cement her point. Max sighed as she watched her friend and her boyfriend saunter toward the massive recreation centre in the distance, and then rolled her eyes. She listened to Ben fidget and shift around for a few moments, but couldn't quite bring herself to break the silence first.

"I didn't know this was going to happen," Ben insisted finally. She shot him a look. "I thought Tiffany just wanted me and Erica to have a gym day."

"_She's_ here too?"

"Okay, this clearly isn't going to go anywhere-"

"Fine, fine, fine, Ben… Wait," she said quickly as he reached for the handle. Max turned and settled in sideways on the seat so that she could face him. "I don't like fighting. This is the longest we've ever gone without talking."

"I know." He nodded, his long fingers continuing to fidget with his jacket. "It's stupid."

"You have every right to be angry with me," Max told him softly. She had rehearsed this speech so many times in her head, with so many different angles that she approached it from, but for now she decided to just let whatever came out of her mouth happen. "I overreacted to you dating Erica…"

"You did, yeah."

"But you were kind of a huge dick about my feelings," she continued, her eyes narrowing when he frowned. "I mean, she's been awful to me for years, and you've listened to me be upset about her before…"

"Yeah, but I guess I just thought you'd be willing to let go of that for my sake," he muttered as he shot her a little glance, and then returned his gaze to the steering wheel. "I mean, I obviously enjoy her company-"

"And that's fine," Max interrupted. "You can be with whoever you want to be with, but you blew my feelings off like they weren't valid at all. And… And that hurt my feelings even more." He looked up at her quickly, and she shrugged. "It made me feel like whatever I felt didn't matter anymore… like you didn't care."

He swallowed thickly, and she watched him reach out for her hand. However, before they touched, he retracted it and brought it to his lap again. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay," she said with a bit of a laugh. "I'm sorry too." She could feel the tense knot in her stomach unraveling with each passing moment; it felt good to _finally_ have some validation. "For being such smart people, we're kind of stupid about some things."

"A lot of things," he agreed weakly. His small smile grew when she grinned. Her grin faltered, however, when he spoke again. "I didn't ask people to not invite you to things… They just sort of… didn't ask you to come out with us."

"I guess they wanted to avoid unnecessary drama," she mused as she shrugged again. She then ran a hand through her hair and laughed. "I thought this would be more difficult."

"I figured you'd push me out of the car and drive away, to be honest," Ben remarked. "I'm glad you didn't."

She settled back into her seat, and in that moment realized that her palms were sweaty. Max wiped them on her pants as subtly as she could, but she couldn't shake the nervous adrenaline out of her system so easily. Apparently, this was exactly what they had needed. They had been fighting more often earlier in the month, and lately it had been nothing but dead silence between them; this was a vast improvement, even if it felt too easy. She was sure she would still dislike Erica, and definitely did _not_ approve of Ben dating her. However, it was nice to be on friendlier terms with one of her favourite people.

"Hug it out?"

Ben grinned at the suggestion, and Max leaned across the distance to wrap her arms around his neck. He seemed hesitant about actually touching her in return, but his hands soon found a neutral spot in the middle of her back to rest.

"I can't believe this actually worked," Ben murmured in her ear. Max finally pulled away, and then smirked as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "I think Tiffany is some sort of Evil Genius."

"You know, I could see that," she insisted with a laugh. "I've wanted us to stop fighting since we started… Maybe we just needed the push?"

"Maybe we remembered we're both reasonable, sane adults who shouldn't be fighting over stuff like this?" Ben suggested, and he chuckled softly when Max poked at him.

"Sane?"

"A bit of a stretch, I know." He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, and then cleared his throat. "But you know, Shakespeare wrote that sanity-"

"No quotes, please," Max said quickly. "I'm just starting to like you again."

"Well, I wouldn't want to ruin that…"

"Speaking of which," Max started as a thought struck her, "let's try not to ruin this again."

"Well, that's a given-"

"I mean, let's not talk about Loki or Erica to each other anymore," she clarified as she pulled on a pair of gloves from her pockets; the car was finally getting cold. Ben frowned at the idea, and she continued quickly. "I mean, I get that you and Loki don't really like each other, and I don't think I'm ever going to _like_ Erica-"

"But-"

"I'll make a real effort to get along with her," she promised, "but let's just leave it at that for now."

"I suppose-"

"I really just don't want to talk about Loki with you," Max told him honestly. "It just seems like it brings more tension than we need right now. So," she held out her gloved hand for him to shake, "let's decide now that our significant others are off-limits for conversation."

He looked between her eyes and her hand, and then hesitantly reached for it. "Loki isn't-"

"We're shaking," Max told him as she gripped his hand. "The deal's made."

Her friend sighed noisily. "Okay, but if he does something then I have the right to-"

"No," Max said sharply when she pulled away. "You have issues with Loki just like I have issues with Erica… Neither of us are ever going to be able to just ignore those and be fair to the other person, so I think it's just easier not to talk about them… for now."

He still seemed discontent with the idea, but in the end conceded with a stiff nod. "That makes sense."

"Good." Max reached into the backseat and grabbed her gym bag. "I need to get in there for Zumba… Will you be joining us?"

"Erica's going to teach me how to exercise in the pool, actually," he replied weakly. The idea of him doing things with her still made Max cringe, but she was able to push the feelings down with a fake smile.

"That's great!"

"Yeah, I guess."

She shot him a look at the lack of enthusiasm in his voice, but opted to ignore it. Instead, she took the time they had on their hike to the rec center across the parking lot to fill him in on the things she had wanted to say for weeks now, pleased that they had finally pushed passed this.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**So I personally hate the gym, and the fact that I have characters who can find pleasure in it makes me want to vomit. Also, Loki's observations about women-folk on the elliptical and the bike are 100% valid based on my own experiences at a university gym. … and my feeble attempts at working out on two of the hundred possible machines there for me. **

**Anywhoddle. **

**To some of you, I'm sure Ben and Max's reconciliation felt a little quick – however, the fight's been going on for at least a month now, and I think at this point they both just wanted it to be over. I've been there with friends… You want to end the fight because fighting is **_**such**_** a waste of time, and you just go with it because it feels good to be on better terms. That's how I felt with Ben and Max. HOWEVER, their issues aren't over yet, and drama will pop back up – particularly with Loki – as we move toward the end. **

**Like I said last time, I've mapped out the rest of the story, and I worked out that there will be roughly 55 chapters plus an epilogue. AND THEN TWO SEQUELS, so don't despair. **

**PS: This month is also finals month. I don't think it will affect me much – I only have 3, and they are fairly spaced out, but just a heads up. **

**Much love, darlings! All your feedback and support is much appreciated and makes my day just a bit brighter! **


	44. Red, the blood of angry men

"Are you religious?"

Loki glanced down at Max as she looped her arm around his, snuggling in close as a gust of frigid wind whipped passed them. The question seemed to come to her mind as they strolled by a human house of worship, which apparently met Sunday mornings for a mass ceremony. Max and Loki had just finished their breakfast at a small diner nearby, and were now surrounded by well-dressed church-goers and their giddy children as they filtered out of the beautiful building.

"In a manner, I suppose," he admitted. Thoughts of Valhalla and Hel sprung to mind, and while they were not places of worship for him, per se, he knew they existed, and therefore offered some validity to the religious doctrines of ancient humans. "I cannot say I have ever practiced anything that would be considered religious."

She nodded. "We used to go to church when I was little… and then we just stopped."

A small smile touched his lips as he watched her, her eyes darting between people and then up to the building. She looked especially lovely that morning, despite the fact that she hadn't done anything out of the ordinary to make herself so. Loki had merely awoken in the early hours, when it was still dark, with a need to be by her side. They had gone to bed at different times the night before, as Max had worked all evening and Loki sat in front of the computer monitor until the early morning, and had therefore slept in separate beds. However, when he was roused by the sound of a thunderstorm – apparently unseasonal for February – outside his window, Loki stumbled groggily from his bed to Max's. For some reason or another, he wanted to be next to her – skin to skin, nose nestled in her hair.

As always, his lady was receptive to his arrival, though it took some careful coaxing to steal her away from sleep, but when he did, she was quite open to his advances. He took her unhurriedly after, pleased with the way she sighed and moaned and whimpered beneath him. When they had finished, the pair drifted back to sleep, and it wasn't until hunger and other bodily needs became too persistent to ignore that they actually forced themselves out of bed. In all its simplicity, Loki realized he liked those moments the most; there was no pressure to _do_ anything, and yet so much had happened.

After a shared shower, Max had suggested they take breakfast somewhere downtown. By that point, the storm had eased off into a pathetic dribble, and Loki thought the idea of someone else cooking for them both to be extremely appealing. They ended up at a crowded diner in a part of town where he had never ventured before, but the pancakes were delicious and the coffee was strong – it was well worth the trip. Their meal that morning had been one of the cheapest they had ever had, and yet Loki was so impressed that he almost suggested they stay in their cozy booth until the lunch hour started. Max, on the other hand, needed to return home to work on a paper, so he kept his suggestions to himself.

"Oh, Ben's going to drop off his half of the essays we had to mark tonight," Max commented absently as they wove through the crowd. "Be nice if I'm not home."

"Why wouldn't you be home?" Loki inquired. He would give no such promise, however, in regards to treating Ben with niceties. Max may have finally ended her grudge with her friend this past week, but that did not mean Loki would bother with kindness. Shockingly enough, Tiffany's plan to get the two back together had worked, and Max resurfaced from her car with a wide grin on her face and a beaming Ben at her side. Later that evening, she had told him that she and Ben made a pact not to discuss their significant others with each other as a means to avoid further complications in their relationship, but that still left Loki with a sense of unease. Ben might have been socially ignorant, but he was not a foolish man; he knew precisely what he saw in December, and it seemed as though it was only a matter of time before the truth tumbled out.

To his credit, Loki believed he had put enough doubt in Max's mind that she wouldn't believe any of the "lies" that Ben spread in regards to his true personage. However, he knew he would need to prepare _something_ to say to her should the issue ever come up. As of that moment, he hadn't any idea what he might do – or say – should they be faced with the truth, and that perhaps warranted some more careful planning.

"I'm probably going to be home," Max insisted with a laugh, "but I'm just saying _if,_ for some reason, I'm not. He's really sick, so he's skipping class tomorrow to sleep."

"How gracious of him."

"Shut up," she said lightly. He glanced down at her once again, eyes running along her wind-kissed cheeks and tousled hair. "You remember how much of a baby you were when you were sick?"

"I'd rather not," he told her, and he chuckled when she rolled her eyes. "I'd like to forget that ever happened, actually."

"You're lucky I refrained from getting a video of you in bed that day," she giggled, her grip tightening around his arm as they came to a stop on the sidewalk curb. The street was madness with people and vehicles slowly inching everywhere, but Max seemed unhurried by all the hustle and bustle. Instead, she held them there, watching and waiting for cars to mill by. "You were just so sad."

"Alright, alright," Loki muttered through gritted teeth. "I will… be kind enough to him should you not be home."

"Good."

"But I expect you to make a real effort to be there to greet him." She really couldn't presume, however, that Loki's 'kindness' toward Ben would be anything more than polite indifference. Her only response was a lengthy sigh, though it lacked any of the usual signs of irritation – Loki assumed he was safe from her ire.

As they were about to step onto the road, a clamor of voices behind him caught Loki's attention; he glanced over his shoulder with a frown as he attempted to find its source.

"What's up?" Max asked when he resisted her pull toward the road. When she undoubtedly caught sight of the rather obvious display, Loki heard her laugh uncomfortably. "What is she doing?"

"I don't… know…" He trailed off as his eyes narrowed in on a woman darting from group to group of church-goers. For now, he could only see the back of her head with its array of messy blonde curls, but he _could_ see the front of her telephone screen, which she was using to take pictures of people. Based on the responses she received, which ranged from mildly shocked to downright annoyed, it seemed that she did not have anyone's permission to do such a thing. "Is this customary of church proceedings?"

"To randomly take pictures of people?" Max scoffed, her eyebrows arching up when he looked down at her. "No, not normally."

"Hmm." Loki's eyes narrowed, and then an uncomfortable feeling tugged at him. It grasped hold of the pit of his being, and for some reason or another, refused to let him turn away and simply walk across the street to Max's car. Max seemed perfectly fine to stand there, equally perplexed as the scene unfolded before them. The rest of the crowd, on the other hand, scuttled away from the girl, shielding their faces and tugging their children away from the angry eye of the woman's camera-phone.

However, before he had the decency to follow in their footsteps, the woman was upon them. She held up her phone and tapped the screen directly in front of Max's face. Max, to her credit, managed to turn away, which must have blurred the photo. The woman seemed unfazed by it, and instead repeated the action to Loki; he glared down at her in return. He wasn't cowardly, even in mortal form, and he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of hiding.

He was about to scold her, but Max jumped on that before he could, snapping that the woman needed to leave the good people alone. Loki's jaw hung open slightly, and his words turned dry on his tongue when he finally saw it – the woman's eyes were off. He had seen many people since he arrived in this realm, and none had had eyes so fiercely blue, nor did a young person – the woman looked no older than Max – had skin that sagged around the eye's edges.

In fact, her entire face seemed to have a little sag to it, as though the skin was too heavy to sit perfectly on her cheekbones. Loki's fingers twitched – Pagurolid? Possibly.

"What the fuck was that?" Max asked. Her tone clearly attempted to make light of the situation, but Loki could easily detect the underlying unease in it; even his lady knew something was wrong. Like a beast that recognizes falsehood, surely the rest of the humans sensed when something was off about a person.

"I don't know," Loki muttered as the woman darted across the road and proceeded to stalk and photograph random individuals.

It would have been so easy to go home. Max was always less prone to work when the weather was terrible, and with the way the clouds darkened and the wind bit at their flesh, he was sure he could easily cajole her into spending the rest of the day in bed. However, if that woman was a Pagurolid in disguise, it meant more would come in time – it meant the Avengers were losing.

"Want to get a coffee or something?" Max inquired as she stuffed her hands into her pockets. "This weather makes me sleepy."

"I…" He swallowed thickly, and then tried to resume a conversational tone. "I've just remembered that… Ludwick and I have a meeting." He nodded when she frowned up at him. "Yes, I asked if we could discuss the possibilities of working for him this summer, and he offered to hear me out."

"On a Sunday?" she asked skeptically. When he nodded again, a little unsure of how this would actually work if it was a truth, Max shrugged and retrieved her car keys from her pocket. "I'll drop you off before I head home then."

"No, that isn't necessary," he assured her. Loki then quickly kissed her cheek and held her by the chin, momentarily pleased with the color that rushed to her face. "I feel like walking. Go finish your paper, and," he kissed her again, this time lightly on the lips, "we'll have the evening together."

"Are you sure?" she murmured, her hands fisting around the fabric of his jacket as she tugged him closer. "It's like… a half hour walk."

"I'll survive." The words had enough irony to make him grin – a gesture she returned warmly. "Go on. Straight home and finish your paper."

"Fine," she sighed, rolling her eyes as she stood up on the tips of her toes to give him a final peck. "Take all the fun out of life, why don't you?"

He merely smiled in response, and watched her hurry across the street to her parked car. Once she was safely inside and speeding away, Loki turned sharply in the direction of the False Woman and spotted her a little ways up the street. She seemed to be taking fewer photographs now, but people still gave her a wide berth as she strolled through the streets. As Loki approached her, he noticed that the small, thin woman had a bit of a limp to her, as though one leg was longer than the other, though he could see no physical defects of any kind.

Sunday mornings, no matter the weather, seemed to be the time for the population of Masonville to flood the downtown core. There were more people around him now than there had ever been on the town's streets, and he actually lost the limping blonde momentarily as he followed at a safe distance. He eventually caught up with her, however, when someone stopped her from crossing at a red light at the main intersection. Up until that point, Loki had merely been under the assumption that there was an invader amongst them, and despite the peculiarities, he wasn't about to jump to definitive conclusions.

However, he also couldn't let the woman wander around Masonville with an agenda of her own should she be a Pagurolid. Lips pursed, he casually eased his way through the small cluster of people waiting for the light, and then stood directly behind her. The uppermost blonde curl finished at his armpit, and Loki quickly assessed the easiest way to subdue her should it be necessary: throat, chest, wrists.

He then wracked his brain quickly for all the Pagurolid linguistic knowledge he had, and just as the light changed, he leaned down and set his mouth next to her ear. "Lenaar." _Liar_.

The woman turned back to look at him immediately, and the look in her eye gave him all the proof Loki needed – there was a Pagurolid in their midst, and it was taking photographic evidence of people. A gruesome thought occurred to him – she had been hunting for new faces.

She blinked those horribly blue eyes back up at him, head cocked to the side, and Loki repeated the word, this time really curling his tongue around the consonants. The woman opened and closed her mouth several times, though she emitted nothing more than a hissing sound. He backed away quickly, hands stretched outward at his side as an encouragement to follow. When she finally forced her legs to move, each one stiff and a little uncoordinated, Loki turned his back on her and hurried down the street.

She wouldn't give up; this was likely a scout. Based on its incredibly unrealistic interpretation of a human, the Pagurolids weren't sending their best troops out into the small towns. This one was probably young, and at the moment, terribly excited at the thought of hearing more of its native tongue.

And Loki intended to kill it.

Unfortunately, aside from his telephone, Loki was basically weaponless. He had his strength, yes, but he was fairly sure he would need more than that to get at the innards of the creature. No matter – there would be time for better planning when he ran into the next Pagurolid. For this one, Loki planned to improvise. When he found himself staring toward the route that led beyond the General Mills store and out toward his old running paths, Loki realized what he needed to do. He turned back to ensure he still had a captive audience, and then waited for her to catch up. When it was close enough, he smiled and beckoned for it to follow, whispering its language softly enough to not draw attention to himself. By now, the crowds had dispersed: few people would be interested in the walking trails on such a horrible day.

When they were finally away from the noise of Masonville's core, he could hear the creature's uneven footsteps clomping along behind him. Loki jogged up ahead gingerly, craning his neck to see if they were truly alone amongst the leafless trees and grey skies. The gravely path gave no sign of recent disturbances, and with the crack of thunder in the distance, Loki was sure that people would be heading for the indoors, not the haunting wilderness.

His companion seemed unperturbed by the oddity of the location, and stopped directly behind him once it was close enough. Loki turned back to face the little blonde woman square-on, and then sighed. Despite the fact they could not function outside of their home realm, Pagurolids were really quite exceptionally dangerous things; no one would ever know of their presence had they not been so careless with the bodies.

Loki extended his hand to the creature, and then nodded down at the phone in its hand. Those blue eyes remained wide as they followed his gaze, and he smiled as the phone was set in his palm. The creature had yet to blink, and he wondered if it was starting to feel the dryness in its eye sockets. Still, he gave its comfort no further thought, and instead bashed it up the side of its head with its phone. He threw all of his rediscovered strength into the blow, and the creature made a distinctly unfeminine cry as it tumbled to the ground.

The force behind the assault had shattered the phone's screen, but Loki merely tossed it aside in favour of the sizeable rock that he discovered nearby. Loki then descended upon the creature, ignoring the anguished shrieks of a stolen woman as he pummeled it with the newfound weapon.

"You really ought to have found a race with thicker skin," he mused as he clambered atop the woman's body, and then slammed the rock into her rib cage. A few satisfying cracks resulted from the blow, and he sighed irritably as uncoordinated arms flung out at him in some vain attempt to throw him off. The creature was somewhat stronger than an average human, but given that he had an ounce of Asgardian strength back in him, it was a decidedly unfair fight.

"Can you not even speak the common tongue?" Loki demanded harshly as he leaned the entirely of his weight onto the woman's skull, holding her down with the rock in one hand as the other went for her jacket. "Surely they are training you better than that these days?"

He felt her legs flail, but they were rendered useless with his weight on top of her. Then, as clinically as he could, Loki unzipped her dark brown jacket and ripped open the soft blouse underneath. The creature wailed, but seemed just as ineffective as ever when it tried to push him off. Loki ignored the interruptions, and taking the jagged rock in both hands, he slammed it down against the stitched-up belly of the female. He then pushed into the gushing red wound until it would affect the Pagurolid inside. He glanced up at the gurgling noise emitted from the creature's mouth, and then let out a small breath of relief when he saw what he needed to see – black blood. It spouted from the woman's pale pink lips, and then rolled down her cheeks.

"It's a curious thing, isn't it?" Loki murmured as those blue eyes danced fearfully across his face. "Pain." He twisted the rock and shoved it into the woman's body again, a mix of red and black blood coating his hands and trousers. "They feel it so strongly in these bodies… Do you feel it when their shells are struck? Or do I need to truly _find_ you to hurt you?"

It must have felt _something_. Loki had crushed the human woman's nose, cracked her skull, and torn both lips. It was odd to mercilessly attack a creature that looked so human-like and yet get no response verbally from it, but perhaps that would simply make it more difficult.

Suddenly, Loki lurched forward, as though some barrier had been breached, and that was when he truly heard the anguished cries of the Pagurolid. High-pitched, familiar, and troublesome to his ears, the creature wailed and thrashed the useless limbs of the human's body as Loki continued to stab the rock inward. He stopped when the creature struggling beneath him stopped: the limbs rested and the sound vanished. Those blue eyes were still quite piercing in their own right, but there was a lifeless quality to them that assured him his task was complete.

Loki almost fell off the body, leaving the rock in the oozing stomach wound and crawling away hastily. His trousers were absolutely soaked, both in the bloods of the dead and water from the ground. There was a tremble in his hands when he brought them up to examine, and he flexed the digits a few times before wiping the blood on his jacket.

As much as it pained him, Loki reached into his pocket and retrieved his telephone device, and then dialed for Stark.

"What?"

"I just killed one," Loki blurted as soon as the man's voice echoed in his ear. "It was here in Masonville… taking pictures of people."

There was a very long pause on the other end, and Loki kept his eyes on the corpse, tensed for any signs of movement.

"Killed it… how?"

"Let's not get into particularities on the phone," he insisted tersely. "You should take the body… Examine it, learn from it… The creature is still inside, but I think I've killed it too."

"I sent Thor to-"

"And what would my brother do with a Pagurolid?" Loki snapped, wincing at the natural reaction to call _that_ man his brother. "You take it and examine it with the beast's better half. It cannot stay here."

"Give me two hours-"

"An hour," Loki insisted. "I'll not wait out here all day for you."

* * *

There was something about storm clouds that would forever appeal to Ben Belford. When he was a boy, he enjoyed sitting in the nook by his bedroom window, watching as the rain clouds rolled in across the distance. He liked their colour and shape, and what they could bring to his community in a matter of moments. When he was seventeen, his father bought him his first real camera – one with a massive lens and far too many automatic features – right before the man left the family for the first time to live with his girlfriend in Seattle. The memory wasn't a particularly happy one, but it was one of the few good gifts the man had ever managed to produce for a son that he would never fully understand.

Ten years later, Ben still loved storm clouds and cameras, and he especially liked it when he had the opportunity to use them together. The weather had been absolutely terrible that morning, and that coupled with his sickness made Ben wish he had stayed in bed. However, he roused himself out of his roomy twin when he saw the newest set of dark grey Cumulonimbiforms make their way over the house. The rain had held off for a while, and after dressing in a few warm layers, Ben thought he ought to take advantage of the fleeting clarity and get a few shots in.

The rest of the guys were sprawled out in front of the TV – a typical lazy Sunday afternoon – when he shot by the living room. He wrapped himself up in a few scarves, his camera hanging off his neck, as he stuffed his feet into his boots. The thick winter coat followed shortly after, and he was soon outside. Despite how terrible his body felt, the cool air managed to give his clogged nostrils a bit of lucidity. He mentally prepared himself for the climb, carefully placing each foot on the metal ladder attached to the side of the house.

Their landlord considered that ladder a hazard, but despite the fact he had insisted his tenants remain off the roof, he had yet to remove it. So, while the ladder remained, Ben and his roommates made use of a roof that did not have much of a slant to it. However, no matter the angle, there was still an element of danger to its use, and Ben made sure he had a proper grip and a steady hand as he inched across it. He ended up settling near the chimney, and then turned his camera to the sky. The shots came out a little dark the first time around, and he was forced to readjust his flash in order to get the proper picture.

However, as he raised the camera to his eye and tilted it upward, something whizzed across the screen like a shot. It was too small to be an aircraft, and too low to be skewed by the distance. Blinking rapidly, he looked with his own eyes, and frowned when he spotted it again. Ben's jaw unhinged – was that…. Was that Iron Man?

He brought his camera up again, this time following the shape as it streaked across Masonville and toward its forest boundaries. In his dumbfounded state, Ben only managed to get a few blurry shots of the flying red and gold before it disappeared into the distance. Shaking his head, he leaned against the chimney for support, his legs sliding out in front of him to be splayed like the useless things they were.

He _knew _it. He _knew_ that he had seen Tony Stark in Max's apartment, and "Loki" was not who he said he was. The man had always looked familiar, but Ben knew he was not a part of the Avengers team. No, there was the Hulk, Iron Man, Thor, and Captain America, and then a few agents from the secret organizations that the government denied in the press. Loki, in mythology, was the brother of Thor, and if Thor was a real member of this elite team, then Loki was too.

Well, he was _something_, anyway. Whatever he was, he was definitely a liar, and Max needed to know the truth. After all, she was living with some Norse God who had his superhero buddies flying out to quiet Masonville on a whim – something had to be happening. Max needed to know. He shook his head; she wouldn't believe him. There were still a few of his friends who were skeptical of the very existence of the Avengers, and Max was one of them.

"_Superheroes that fly around and save the world? Come on, Ben… You know that stuff is just done up for TV."_

She was a smart girl, but Max had been in denial about the existence of "different" people for a long time. She kept out of Mutant Rights movements and only showed a passing interest with everything that went on in Manhattan. Now, here she was living with one of the world's most dangerous men, and she hadn't the slightest idea who he really was, or what he could do to her in the throes of a tantrum.

That pact they made was stupid, but Max seemed to be sticking to it – she hadn't once discussed Erica, nor did she make a comment about the woman if she was mentioned. So, with that in mind, Ben tried to do the same about Loki, but the presence of Iron Man's suit racing across the sky made that pact null and void in Ben's mind. Max would need proof, and at this point, Ben was going to go out of his way to get it for her. She may not like the truth, but she needed to hear – and see – it.

* * *

When Tony woke up that morning, the last place he wanted to be was in rural Vermont. Pepper had an appointment with her doctor in the late afternoon, and he had planned to take her like he ought to. He was still excited for a baby – his baby with Pepper – but he hadn't been the best at showing it lately; she needed a little reassurance. Unfortunately, that would no longer come in the form of Tony's presence with her while she stretched out on some table with stirrups and had a gloved hand inspected her. He regretted his absence – he would have rather been at her side. However, Loki's call threw everything he had planned for out the window, and as soon as the arrogant Asgardian prick hung up the phone, Tony was nearly dressed for flight.

It would have been less strain on the suit if Tony took a jet to Burlington and then flew, but the tone of Loki's voice on the phone indicated that the situation was dire. So, after Jarvis had taken down the man's coordinates based on the location of his cell phone, Tony took off across the Manhattan skyline, headed north for Masonville, Loki, and a Pagurolid. For his pleasure, Jarvis screened a film across his line of sight to ease the hour and a half flight-time, and the heating and cooling system inside the suit kept him perfectly comfortable. None of that, however, could calm the nerves that plagued him, nor the fear that crept up from the core of his being.

He hadn't seen many aliens in his lifetime, but they always managed to produce such foreign feelings within him. As always, he was careful to avoid detection as he skimmed across the small town. He realized he had been cruising too low over the residential streets, and opted for more cloud cover as he whizzed over the downtown core. However, once he was free from the 'bustling' city below, Tony dropped in altitude and scanned the wooded walking trails for any sign of Loki.

The suit found the fallen Asgardian long before Tony did, and he dropped down into a secluded circular clearing where several walking paths seemed to converge. The man who stood before him now was a far cry from the being who led an army of Chitauri against them in the previous year. He was still Loki, yes, but he looked so… ordinary as he stood there in a pair of jeans and a black jacket. Mind you, it was difficult to look ordinary when one was coated in a thick layer of blood, but the guy had some aspects of normalcy working for him.

"Took you long enough," he sneered as Tony's facial armor peeled back. "I do have other things to do."

"Right, homework is of the utmost importance in college," Tony offered with a smirk, which grew into a smile when Loki shot him a glare. He glanced around the clearing, eyebrows up. "Is this where you killed it?"

Loki shook his head. "Back on one of the trails… I moved it here in case anyone wanted to go for a walk. I just finished removing the blood-"

"Did you now?" He nodded down at the man's jeans, which were caked in a congealed layer of red and black. "You're going to need to change before you go back."

"I'll make up a story," Loki muttered absently, waving the notion off as he shook his head. "Come… You should see what you are going to be dealing with."

Tony followed the much taller man into the treeline, lips pressed together in a grim line as he brushed branches out of his face. They hadn't gone all that far when Loki stopped and cursed softly, dropping to his knees and muttering something under his breath.

"What?" Tony snapped, stepping around the kneeling man. "What is it? We…"

He trailed off when he spied a mangled body of a small blonde woman; it looked like someone had taken a pair of scissors and simply cut directly up her body. The chest splayed open, as did the stomach, and he felt a wave of nausea threaten to overtake him.

"It can't have gone far," Loki hissed as he sprang to his feet, crouched down somewhat as he hurried through the trees. Tony, meanwhile, stared down at the girl – what horrors had she gone through to house some horrible little creature? His hand trembled, even inside the suit, as he leaned down to close her eyelids. There were no orbs in the sockets, but it felt like the right thing to do.

At least the thing left her face untouched. Tony frowned, and then hurried off after Loki, who had come to a stop some ten feet ahead of him.

"I thought you said you killed it?" Tony stopped at the man's side, and then swallowed thickly as he viewed the wretched creature at their feet. At first, it looked like a black shaven guinea pig, though perhaps ten times the side of an actual guinea pig. All of its limbs were stubby and curled, and Tony could count four toes and fingers for each limb. Its nose was non-existent aside for two holes in the centre of its face, and he could see several white, pronged teeth in the small creature's gaping mouth. It was smaller than he would have expected, and infinitely less threatening.

"I thought I had damaged it enough to keep it subdued," Loki remarked as he nudged at the beast with his foot. "It was young and foolish… There is no atmosphere that it can survive in beyond its home planet."

"So… it's actually dead now?" Tony shrugged when Loki shot him a look. "I just need to know where we stand-"

"Take it back with you," Loki demanded. He hoisted the creature up and held it out for Tony to take. "It cannot stay here… If more of its kind find out what has become of it, they will want to know the reason for its demise. One is more than this town needs."

"Well, changing your tune about humanity yet, huh?" Tony muttered as he pulled a thick drawstring bag from one of his many compartments. His nose wrinkled as Loki dumped the creature inside, and he then latched it to his belt; Bruce was going to have a field day with a live specimen.

Well, not technically _live_, but close enough.

"Well, I suppose that's all then," Loki snapped before turning away and stalking off into the woods.

"What are you going to do with the body?" Tony demanded as he pointed in the general direction of the woman's discarded flesh. Loki paused for a moment, his back to Tony, and then glanced over his shoulder.

"The wolves will take care of her."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Soooo two updates in a row! I watched **_**Thor**_** this week and I was inspired to get to work on this story. This chapter has been one I've wanted to do for a while now – I wanted Loki to have a moment of violence with something, and our alien friends were perfect for it. It didn't quite turn out how I originally saw it, and I'm not 100% happy with it, but that'll do, pig… That'll do. **

**I have fewer notes to give at the end of my chapters now, and I've noticed that fewer people are reviewing per chapter. I can't complain – this story has gotten more feedback than I have ever received on this site, and I'm thrilled. It does make my ego deflate a little when I get fewer reviewers per chapters, but I get it – we all know what's happening with Loki, and you've all been awesome sticking around for hundreds of thousands of words with me. I genuinely appreciate it, and I love everyone – even my silent lurkers. **

**I think I'm going to try to update my other two Loki fics before I get to work on this one again. So, I think the next update will be sometime toward the end of the month – or third week of April, who knows with me? **

**LOVE YOU ALL!**


	45. Need a second to breathe

_Dear Ms. Wright, _

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to be this year's summer intern at the Ashmolean: Museum of Art and Archaeology at the University of Oxford. Your application was very impressive, and we are excited to have you as a part of the team. _

_Please see below for further details about your acceptance…_

Max stared at her laptop screen, unable to read much more beyond the second paragraph of her rather lengthy acceptance email from the museum she had applied to in December for a summer position. It had arrived out of the blue that Thursday afternoon, and she felt as though she wasn't even remotely mentally prepared to take in something this life-changing. She was sitting on her couch in sweatpants and one of Loki's t-shirts. Her hair was a train wreck. She wasn't wearing make-up. There was an open bag of chips at her side.

And she had just been accepted into the adult world. A real life… _thing_. When the realization finally started to sink in, Max grinned, slumping down further on the couch and scanning the email several more times to make sure she had read everything correctly. They were _excited_ to have her – for the first time ever, she was actually taking a positive step forward for the career all these fucking years of school had prepared her for, and it made her giddy. She craned her neck up and saw that Loki's door was still shut: he had been wrapped up in a history paper all afternoon, even forging his usual gym session in favour of research.

It was probably best not to bug him with her excitement – that and she was enjoying her much needed space. Something had… changed with her boyfriend. It seemed that at some point during the weekend, a switch had been turned on in his head, and suddenly he was around her _all the damn time_. She liked him; her feelings grew with each passing day, and it was actually a little worrying the degree to which she adored the new man in her life. However, she also liked a little bit of space. Ever since his meeting with Professor Ludwick, Loki had literally been _everywhere_ with her. He walked her to classes, accompanied her to the grocery store, and even met up with her after her shifts at the bookstore when there was no reason for him to even leave the house.

If she was outside, he was by her side. If she was inside, he was hovering nearby, ready to throw on a pair of boots and his jacket if she decided to go out. He barely seemed to notice the shift in behaviour, and acted as though there was nothing out of the ordinary going on between them. Max wasn't necessarily upset that he wanted to do things with her, but she would have liked just a little bit of breathing room. After all, they already lived together, and she didn't think they needed to be on top of one another _outside_ of the house too. However, he seemed quite content to be with her, never once complaining about her taking the scenic route to get to her classes, and Max didn't have it in her to tell him that he was smothering her.

Just a little. Maybe _smothering_ was too strong a word, but Max couldn't really think of another one to describe him lately. He was just… everywhere. All the time.

She decided to give it until Valentine's Day – perhaps February was just a romantic time of year, and he was trying to show how he felt about her? Whatever the reason might be, Max made a note that if he hadn't given her a little bit of space by then, she would confront him about it in the nicest way possible. Excessive clinginess wasn't an attractive trait, even on someone like Loki.

Still, it was better than having a guy who was almost completely hands off – cue Ben. Now that they were back on speaking terms, she actually got a chance to see what her friend was like with his new girlfriend, and if she was being honest, he wasn't really knocking it out of the park. Yes, Erica was probably _the_ most annoying person Max knew, but surely the guy dating her actually wanted to spend time with her. The two of them had been working on grading papers all week together – with Loki waiting for Max somewhere nearby – and then when they weren't, she knew for a fact Ben was "recovering" from his recent sickness in front of the TV with the guys.

It wasn't her business to tell him that he should try to spend time with his girlfriend, but Max assumed Erica wasn't necessarily happy that they did almost nothing together. According to Tiffany, the woman had been by Ben's house _twice_ since they started dating, and Ben hadn't exactly been a common occurrence at her apartment on the other side of town either. It was like they were in middle school: technically, they were dating, but in reality, they sort of just hovered around one another. So, when Max put Loki's recent clinginess into perspective, she realized it could have been worse – she wouldn't be able to handle an absentee boyfriend.

Space was acceptable, but not ten miles of it every day of the week – why bother dating then?

Unfortunately, she couldn't say any of her thoughts to Ben; their pact stood strong, and she wasn't going to be the first one to break it. Still, she could have done with a male perspective on Loki's recent behaviour switch, and even if Ben wasn't the most socially competent male she ever met, he could have offered a unique insight into the issue. Instead, she was left to wade through the confusing mess on her own. There was always Garret, yes, but she knew he would immediately spill the news to Tiff, and then the woman would be upset that Max hadn't come to her first. Nope. Not dealing with that.

She skimmed her acceptance email one last time, her smile actually hurting her cheeks as she did so. They wanted her to be in Oxford for the months of June, July, and August. The pay wasn't great, but seeing as most internships didn't even offer a salary, Max wasn't about to complain. She was going to be cross-trained in all departments of the museum, and in order to attain a college credit, she needed to write a forty page research piece on one of the exhibits. It was certainly a lot more work than she had originally anticipated, but it was the start – this was the stepping stone to a career in something she loved.

Her hand groped out blindly for her phone, which had somehow wedged itself in the crevice of the couch cushions, and then swiped her thumb across the street once she retrieved it. Her nose wrinkled as she punched in her password – there were remnants of sub-couch food crumbs on it – and she blew a puff of air at it in an attempt to clean it. However, all thoughts of phone hygiene dissipated as she rang for home, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she scrolled through the email again – staring and disbelieving and squeeing quietly.

"Wright residence."

"Dad," Max breathed. "Hi!"

"Oh, hello, sweetheart." There was something about her dad's brogue that always made her smile. "How are you doing?"

"I got the internship," she blurted, unable to go through the pleasantries of her otherwise routine life before breaking the news, "in Oxford… They're taking me on!"

She could almost hear the smile on his face. "Oh, that's wonderful, isn't it? When do they want you there?"

"June?" Max scrolled through the email once again. "Yeah, June… And I'd be there until the end of August, and it's paid, and it's just… It'll look so good on my resume."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart," he told her as she gently closed her laptop –the bottom was officially too hot to sit on her lap anymore – and set it aside nearby. "Mum's just resting now… I'll tell her when she wakes up." Max nodded as if he could see her, but he barely paused a beat before carrying on. "I've got a cousin down there if you need somewhere to stay. I'm sure she'll give you a room for free."

"Yeah, I didn't really see much about accommodation," she mused, her gazing drifting back toward her laptop and fingers itching to pry the damn thing back open to check. "Why don't you send me her email and I'll get in touch?"

"Alright."

"I'm so excited!"

"I know," he chuckled, his voice suddenly too loud – as though he was using his shoulder to prop the phone too close to his mouth. "I can hear it in your voice… Why don't I come down for a celebratory dinner sometime this week?"

"Yeah, we can go to Richie's," Max remarked. "What do you mean _I_? Wouldn't Mum come too?"

"Oh, she'd love to, sweetheart," her dad said gently, "but her treatments make her really tired… I don't think she would be up for much socializing after the ride."

"Oh." Max swallowed thickly as a guilty feeling gnawed at her; she knew her mom had been having radiation treatments – they'd started a vigorous schedule at the beginning of this month – and yet she definitely hadn't called in to check on the woman as often as she should.

Well, at all, really. Her mother was a tough old bird who nagged too much, and Max assumed she would be just fine with the treatment program her doctors had put her on.

"Yeah, she's in more often now," her dad continued, "and she just likes to sleep afterward." Max nibbled on her lower lip. "They've been really good about it at work… She only needs to be in a couple of times a week, and a substitute does the rest."

"That's good."

"Well, I'd be having something to bloody well say if they gave her any grief for it," he muttered. "The doctor has her in almost four times a week for treatment, and they were talking about upping it."

"I hope not," she offered weakly. "How… How is she doing?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "Good, I suppose. As good as you can be in these situations."

"Right."

"They really want the radiation to work," he continued, trailing off as a moment of tense silence hung between them. "It'll be a surgery if it doesn't… Your mum was devastated when she heard."

"Christ." She sighed deeply, all semblance of excitement melting away at the news. "Do you want me to come home? Maybe I can help out on weekends-"

"We don't need any help, sweetheart," her dad insisted, his tone shifting suspiciously quick to something quite peppy. "Thanks for the offer, but we're doing just fine."

"Dad," she said firmly. "If you guys need a hand, I can give it."

"No, not to worry."

"I'm not a teenager," she told him, her voice steady. "I can take it if you have bad news."

"Yes, just fine." Max frowned. "Why don't I have her call you back once she's woken up a little?"

"Dad?"

"Yeah, I'm doing dinner in the wok tonight."

She pursed her lips. "Is she standing in the room now?"

There was a long pause, and she heard snatches of whispered conversation on the other end. She huffed, but immediately felt awful for doing so: she had no right to be angry with them for blocking her out or playing down the issue. After all, this was the first time she had called since the radiation treatment started, and she had _maybe_ called home once the month before. It was so easy to get wrapped up in other issues: Ben, Loki, school, work, and the internship all seemed to take priority.

"Look, I've got to get everything started," her dad told her, startling her back to reality. "Why don't I send you a _proper_ email sometime this week and I can tell you everything about my cousin's place. You'll really like it."

She nodded again, fiddling with a loose string on Loki's borrowed t-shirt. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"I love you, sweetheart."

Max closed her eyes tightly – she could hear some of the strain behind his words. She hadn't even really noticed it earlier – the whole conversation had focused around her internship – but he sounded tired and worn.

"I love you too," she told him quickly. "Tell mum for me too."

"I will."

"Talk soon?"

"Of course," he told her. "I'll call about that dinner. Congratulations, sweetheart… We're very proud."

"Thanks." The call ended with a noisy click in her ear, and she slowly set her phone down on the couch's armrest. She hadn't the slightest idea _how_ she was supposed to feel after a conversation like that, but guilt seemed to be the word of the day: guilt for not checking in as often as she should – guilt for forgetting about what went on at home while she lived her own life.

She fiddled with the loose bit of string for a few minutes longer, thoughts dwelling on her mother, and she finally pushed them away when she reached for the television remote. The large box hummed to life in front of her, and she opted to watch Gordan Ramsay pick apart yet another horrible restaurant over fixating on cancer and radiation and surgeries.

When the first commercial finally rolled around, Max eased herself to her feet and sauntered back to the kitchen, rummaging through the vastly depleted food supplies until she found the last bag of popcorn. She peeled off the plastic wrapping and tossed the thing in the microwave, punching in just slightly under the appropriate amount of time to get most of the kernels popped. She stared blankly at the spinning bag, watching it turn and turn inside the microwave, and only blinked when she heard Loki's door open.

"Essays are probably the most ridiculous and _unnecessary_ things I have ever heard of," he grumbled as he stalked down the hall. She turned back to see him address her as though she was seated at the couch, and then face her in the kitchen. "I hate it."

"Everyone hates it," she told him with a small grin, her arms folded across her chest. "Do you _know_ how many essays I've written since my undergrad?"

"Oh, thousands, I bet," he chuckled, sauntering toward her with a familiar look in his eye. "I had thought that you might," he paused in front of her, his large hands smoothing around her hips, "give me a little distraction before I start to conclude the damn thing."

Max tilted her head up to accept his kiss, but it was far too feisty for her liking. With the mood she found herself in, she wanted to be held and touched softly, but Loki soon had her set on the counter as he stood between her thighs, one hand beneath her breast and the other cupping her cheek.

"Wait," she whispered when she broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he trailed his lips down her neck. "Wait, Loki, stop."

"What?" He looked up sharply, eyebrows knitted together. "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head and placed both hands on his chest. "No, not at all."

"Alright," he said with a smirk, and then leaned forward to kiss her again. The microwave beeped noisily behind her, and Max pulled her head back just enough to indicate a lack of interest. "I don't understand-"

"I'm just not really in the mood today," she told him softly. In an effort to spare him his feelings, which looked a little damaged at the rejection, she leaned forward and gave him a quick peck and a smile. "Can I take a rain-check for another day?"

He blinked rapidly, removing his hands from her body and taking a small step back. "Yes… Yes, of course."

"Hey, I can still be a distraction," she told him brightly, her tone only a little forced. She slid off the counter and turned back to open the microwave, which had finally stopped alerting her of her popcorn's completed state. Loki, meanwhile, leaned against the kitchen island, his arms folded across his chest. It wasn't necessarily a sulk written across his facial features, but he didn't look especially pleased to be turned down. Max suddenly realized that this was the _first_ time she had ever declined his advances. "Come on… We can watch Ramsay fix a burger bar…"

She quickly located a bowl under the nearby counter, and then dumped her freshly-made popcorn into it.

"I've seen this one."

"Then we'll find something else to watch," she told him, looping her arm around his and tugging him toward the couch. "I'm flexible."

"I know," he purred as he leaned down to nip at her ear. Max shot him a look, to which he gave an impish grin. "You can't blame me for giving it one last shot."

A soft chuckle slipped through her lips, and Max rolled her eyes. "I guess… I'm just not really feeling it today."

"I could help you with that-"

"_Loki_."

"Fine, I'm done," he sighed, holding up his hands in surrender when she shot him a second look – this time it was a warning. He gave no objection, however, as she snuggled up next to him on the couch, her head tucked beneath his chin and the bowl of popcorn resting between them. After scooping a handful of the white fluffy goodness into her mouth, Max reached for the remote and flipped arbitrarily to the Guide page, scrolling through it slowly and shooting Loki a look whenever she passed something she thought he might like. He stayed quiet, however, and only made a move to eat a piece of popcorn or two every so often.

"So, how far are you in your essay?" Max asked when she finally decided to throw on a little Simpsons action.

"Almost finished," he told her, and then finally wrapped his arm around her shoulders, placing a soft kiss against the side of her head. "Maybe another hour or so."

"You _are_ the slowest typist on the planet," she muttered, and he snorted a puff of air into her hair.

"I thought I was getting better."

"The next step up from abysmal is terrible," she reminded him, and when he glanced down, she stuffed a piece of popcorn in his mouth. "Never forget."

"You'll never let me forget, will you?"

She grinned up at him. "Never ever."

"Good." They sat in silence for a little while longer, and Max tried her best not to spill bits of popcorn all down her front as she ate it by the handful – it proved to be a very difficult task. Loki was the first to break the lull in conversation, and Max sighed when she heard him say it. "So you really just… don't _feel_ like it?"

"Nope," she said earnestly. He may have been able to improve her mood with his presence, but it was difficult to feel sexy – or want to feel sexy – when one's head was too full.

"Have I done something to warrant such feelings?"

"No, Loki, just drop it," she ordered with a huff. "My head's just… full today. I don't feel like doing anything sexual. Just let it go."

"Do you want to tell me what's gotten your head so full?" he murmured, lips gently nudging against her as he spoke. She certainly wanted to tell him about the internship – there was no harm in that. However, she knew it would inadvertently lead to cancer talks, and she just… she didn't want him to judge her.

"No." She shook her head. "Not tonight."

"So you would like us to… sit together," Loki worked out, "and that's all?"

"Why is this such a difficult concept for you to grasp?" she asked as she set the empty bowl on the coffee table. When she settled back against him, she opted to take a little space so that they could look at one another. "We can just hang out without doing each other… I like you for more than your talented handiwork."

She laced her fingers with his as she spoke, and then wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Loki stared down at their clasped hands, and then gave hers a little squeeze.

"I suppose…" He trailed off, pursing his lips and turning his attention back to the TV. "Most of the time, people spend time with me because they want something from me." Max swallowed thickly and reached out to take his other hand, but retracted it when he faced her again. "At least, that has been a noticeable pattern in the past."

She nodded quickly and gave him another kiss, lingering this time with the tips of her fingers hovering beneath his chin.

"I don't want anything from you," she murmured, holding his gaze as he stared down at her. "I don't have ulterior motives." She was _way_ too unorganized and nonchalant to bother with scheming for a man.

"Everyone wants something," he told her frankly, cupping her face and resting his forehead against hers. "Every single person desires something from another, whether you know it or not."

Max nibbled on her lower lip for a moment, and then shrugged. "Well, you've caught me… I _do_ want something from you."

"And what's that?"

"Tea," she whispered cheekily. "Can you make me a tea like you did the other day?" She wasn't a tea person, but Loki's ratios of sugar, milk, and whatever else he added seemed to convert her. "Please?"

His grin grew quickly, which always had a knack for making her blush, and he bopped her nose affectionately.

"Whatever my lady wants, she shall have," he remarked as he rose, slowly untangling their limbs in the process.

"Just tea," Max told him as she settled back down, eyes returning to the television screen. "That's all."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**IS IT? **_**IS IT**_**? –cue Loki references- **

**Anywho! Sorry this took so long for me to update – my last month has been rather busy. I wrote exams, updated my other stories, and recently – as of a day ago – moved into a new apartment on my own. So. Exciting and busy times that took me away from writing. **

**I chose the museum in Oxford (which is an actual museum) because… why not? I don't know if they offer summer internships and the like, but in fiction I CAN MAKE IT ALL HAPPEN BECAUSE I AM GOD. Well. Godly. And just here with Max and Loki. And for my rabbit. Anyway. Focus. **

**I brought up the cancer plotline again – it will be a recurring thing throughout all of my Max-Loki stories for Max, and it's probably the most personal thing in my life that I've ever tried to articulate through another character. I'm not going to elaborate too much, but it feels a little cathartic to write about it. **

**As of right now, there are 11 chapters (I think…) to go before the story is complete. THRILLING! I've been going over the next-most sequel in more detail lately while trying to ignore the sequel to the sequel because that is far too far in the future for me to have this much muse for. Fml. **

**Now that I'm done with classes for the summer – minus the online writing ones I'm taking for funsies – I should be back to a more regular updating schedule. But I'm also working more. So. We'll see. Who the fuck really knows, amiright? **

**You guys were amazing with reviews last time! I'm not one to whine for them, because this story has gotten so much love and squee and it's awesome – I was just feeling a little like… Have I done something to put you off? Has it gotten too long? Boring? Etc. Regular writer insecurities. You guys made them go away – huzzzaah! Much love to all of you!**


	46. Nobody knows that she's a lonely girl

Natasha had always liked the cold more than the hot, but Greenland in February was definitely _too_ cold. Clint seemed to share the sentiment, and had been vocal about his disdain for the weather ever since they left S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security checkpoint in Hammerfest, Norway. They had tracked Agent 22 all the way there, and had stormed the facility with the hope that they might be able to take him. However, the man had merely changed shoes and left Natasha's tracking device in one of the lockers. Thankfully enough, the agency personnel were still unaware that the man was a traitor, and were able to provide accurate information about his future whereabouts: Greenland – rural Greenland. He had left five days earlier by boat, and clearly had more of a head start on them than she had originally thought.

Although she would have liked to check-in with Fury and give him an update on the situation, she hadn't the slightest idea if any of the men in Norway were working for 22. Instead, she and Clint merely logged their entry into the base's computer system, fired a "we need to talk" memo off to Fury, and then suited up for the next leg of their journey. For a brief moment, Natasha simply wanted to sleep. They had been on the go for almost a month and a half now, and she hadn't had a proper bed to curl up in since December. Clint also showed signs of weariness, but those seemed to dissipate once he got a good meal in him.

The Norwegian post was small, but they had enough weapons in the armory for Natasha to feel comfortable again. Unfortunately, Clint remained without a bow, but she promised to pay for a new one if they couldn't find his on any of 22's men. After spending just one night in a real bed, she and Clint hopped into the base's only two-seater plane and took off – without authorization – in the direction of Greenland. Earlier that morning, Natasha had located 22 through his cell phone, and that alone was enough to give her route to follow. It cut in and out occasionally, but thus far she had been able to track him to the territory of the Northeast Greenland National Park. It was there that she and Clint decided to land; neither wanted their plane to attract anymore unnecessary attention.

They were unwilling, however, to travel too far from said plane. Agent 22's signal had been relatively stable for the last hour at a point along the northern coast, and after Natasha and Clint had adequately disguised their plane in the terrain, they set out on food to bring him down. Even if he had some security officers with him, Natasha knew she and Clint could take them – they weren't weaponless anymore, but even without a gun on her hip, she knew she could handle herself just fine. Clint, on the other hand, hadn't stopped grumbling about his bow since Beijing.

"I mean, who _really_ needs a bow," he muttered. Natasha rolled her eyes and readjusted her furry hood around her face, pulling it closer to block out the wind. "Most people don't even know how to use her."

"It's a _her_?" she asked, thin eyebrows steeping upward as she shot him a look over her shoulder. He shrugged. "I guess I should have suspected…"

He reached into his coat's pockets and retrieved two pairs of goggles. She watched him slid them over his head, temporarily letting the snow and wind bite at his exposed ears, and then handed the other pair to her. She didn't particularly want her vision blurred by a bit of plastic, but the wind was making her eyes water to the point of distraction; she accepted them begrudgingly.

"I mean, she takes special arrows," Clint continued, which made her sigh. "She can't just use any old wood in there."

"_Alright_," Natasha said tightly. "I'll bring her back to you… I promise."

"I know you will," he remarked. "I just miss her."

"You concern me sometimes, Barton." She yanked her hood back up once the goggles were properly situated across her face and then carried onward, gloved thumbs resting under the straps of her weighty backpack. Although their suits were camouflaged to the environment, the duo steered clear of vast stretches of open land – which fairly difficult, considering the terrain of the park, but somehow they managed.

"Do you think anyone could actually live out here?" Clint asked after more trekking across the sea of white. Natasha paused for a moment, her mouth dry, and then threw her backpack down. She wasn't someone who needed things on assignments – her focus was usually quite good – but the elements were really getting the better of her this time around. She rooted through her bag to find a thermos of warm water, and then took a quick sip before offering it to Clint.

"People do live out here," she told him as he tilted his head back. "I mean, there are military bases and scientists…" She paused as a thought took hold, a thought that almost literally knocked the breath out of her. "Wait, where are we exactly?"

Clint sighed noisily, handing her the thermos and then retrieving the tracking scanner from his pocket. The device was a little more obnoxious than her phone had been, but it gave more of an accurate reading; its size was necessary. He fiddled with the screen for a moment or so and then finally yanked off his glove to get a better grip on the thing.

"Here," he told her, turning the screen to their zoomed in location. Her eyes quickly scanned the coordinates, and she moved the screen up just a tad to see 22's flashing dot.

"_Bozhe moy_-"

"English, Nat-"

"I know where he's going," she blurted quickly, her mind running rapidly through the number of courses she ought to take now to counteract the man. "He's… He's taking the plane."

"What?"

"The plane that the Captain crashed into the ice," she informed him, legs itching to run – but in which direction? "Look, here," she pointed at the screen. "That's Station Nord… We partner with the scientists there from time to time, and Fury built a base to house whatever was left of the Red Skull flying wing that we dug up…"

"Can't say I followed the file," Clint said carefully, "but I take it you recovered a substantial amount?"

"With enough tinkering, it could be ready to fly in a matter of months," she muttered. "It's logged in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database… 22 could have had his hands in the repair for God knows how long."

"Nat, this seems like a pretty big leap-"

"No!" She tapped 22's dot on the screen. "He's there now… He's at the base. I don't know why I didn't see this before!"

No, she knew why: the restoration of the plane and most of Captain America had been given over to Agent Coulson. This had been his baby – he had been fixing the flying wing up out of intellectual curiosity, and Natasha usually only feigned an interest in it when he talked about it. She should have paid more attention.

"Okay, but even if he takes the plane," Clint argued, hurrying after her as she broke into a run toward Station Nord – there was roughly five miles between it and their current location, "it's weapons were taken out of it, right? He can't _do_ much with it-"

"Clint!" she all but shouted. "He _is_ S.H.I.E.L.D.! He could have put the missiles back in it… He could have rearmed it! We do _not_ want him in the air!"

"Well, he won't be the only one in the air," he continued, his voice somewhat muffled by a particularly strong gust of wind. "We have air superiority here."

"He's not getting that plane," she told him firmly. "He's not-"

Before she could finish, the ground started to tremble, and Clint swore noisily when the pair were knocked to their feet by the tremors. Natasha instinctively reached for her gun, though it was difficult to grasp properly with her massive gloves on. However, it wasn't as though that would do her any good; moments later, her fears came true. Although it looked a little worse for the wear, the Red Skull flying wing seemed to have no problem taking to flight as it roared across the barren landscape. Clint covered his ears as it whizzed overhead; Natasha fired off a few rounds for good measure.

She couldn't even be sure that she hit anything, but _hopefully_ her bullets had caused some sort of damage somewhere.

"Shit," Clint muttered as the dull roar of the plane's engine faded off. "_Shit_."

"Back to the plane." Natasha smacked his arm as she pushed herself to her feet. "He's not getting far in that thing-"

"Wait, Nat," Clint called, grasping her forearm firmly and yanking her to a halt. Her nostrils flared as she glared back at him. "We can't go after him in our plane-"

"Clint-"

"If he rearmed it, we're done," he reasoned. "We have enough fuel to get us back to Norway, but not much more… We'd never make it in an aerial assault or pursuit."

She shook him off, irritated that he was right. "Well, now what?"

"Let's radio it in from Station Nord," he suggested, annoyingly calm as he straightened out her backpack's straps. "We'll go from there."

"Fine."

She turned and started toward the station, her pace fueled by adrenaline. This man was infuriating; not only had he bested her twice now, she hadn't the slightest idea what he could be up to. If it was a plot to takedown S.H.I.E.L.D., he was probably right on track, but there was no _reason_ for it. The guy's file was short but loaded with advancements and commendations: he didn't exactly scream angsty double-agent to her. Apparently, however, she had been wrong. Whatever his motives might be, she intended to discover them sometime soon, even if she had to drag them out of him with a pair of pliers.

* * *

"_What_ did we just watch?"

Loki's question was muttered low and in her ear, an arm wrapped around her shoulder as she curled up next to him. Max stifled her giggle as Garret went for the lights, and then groaned along with the rest of them when the bright white bulb flickered to life.

"_That_ was a cult classic," she murmured, tilting her head up to give him a quick kiss as they shifted into a seated position on their cramped end of the couch, "and there are two more to go tonight."

He sighed dramatically, but she knew him well enough by now to detect _real_ irritation and petty annoyance. After a long week of assignments, Max and her friends decided to have an _Evil Dead_ movie marathon that Friday night at Ben's house. Unfortunately, Erica warranted an invite to such an affair, but mercifully enough, Tiffany was there to act as a bit of a buffer between the pair. Max had exchanged some forced pleasantries when the woman arrived earlier in the evening, but hadn't said one word to her since she and Ben nabbed the beaten-up loveseat for themselves.

Regardless of Erica's presence, it had been an enjoyable night with her friends. She and Loki were the first to arrive, and they helped Corey set up the basement while Garret and Ben picked up the pizzas they had ordered. For a moment, it almost felt like they were in high school again – movie nights were a fairly common occurrence in her small town before alcohol wormed its way into social gatherings. This time around, however, beer was mandatory; it seemed to be the only way to coax Loki into staying the entire night. The mood – excluding Loki's less-than-impressed attitude about the film's subject matter – was light and fun, and as everyone filed down into the basement to get things started, Max realized she had needed tonight more than ever.

After a somewhat depressing dinner with her dad, during which she had to listen to him worry and fret over her mom's deteriorating condition under her treatment, Max slipped into a bit of a slump. School was exhausting, work was pointless, and home was stressful. Not only did she have her mom to worry about, but Nolan had recently come down with another infection in the hospital and couldn't return to active duty for another month. Her brother feared, and rightfully so, that he may not ever return to the field, but she tried her best to keep him positive over their latest webcam chat.

Loki continued to trail her whenever she left the house, though even he seemed to be growing tired of it. Perhaps school was getting to him too, but he had been a little snippy lately, and whenever she caught him staring at seemingly nothing across a crowded street, she worried he would snap at her for bringing him back to reality. Now, it hadn't been _terrible_; it was always easier to remember and focus on the two bad incidents over the twenty absolutely normal ones. However, Valentine's Day loomed in the very near future, and she still decided to use that date as the day to pester him about all the sudden closeness. Sometimes it felt like he didn't even _want_ to go with her, but he had some sort of obligation to do so.

Which was bullshit. Max was perfectly able to go to the grocery store _alone_ and pick up a carton of milk and a bag of chips – perfectly able. She still enjoyed his company, but she had a sinking suspicion that they were _both_ going to get snippy with each other if they didn't start getting some space soon.

However, that didn't keep her from pestering him to come along to Ben's that night, and deep down, she was sure he was happy he came. He seemed to really be clicking with the guys – or making the effort to – and was much friendlier with them now than he had been initially. He was still certainly much quieter than the rest of the guys, but that was because it was the Ben-Garret-Corey show whenever everyone was at their house – always up for entertaining the masses. Erica still seemed to find their antics amusing, laughing her high-pitched squeak of a laugh whenever the guys pulled one of their usual routines, but Tiffany and Max were officially immune to it at that point.

"Alright," Tiffany started as she stretched upward, grunting a little next to Max – all four of them were squished onto the larger couch, whereas Corey had the armchair all to himself. "Let's do a quick break, and then onto the next one?"

"I hear it's sillier than the first," Erica commented quickly as she fiddled with Ben's shaggy hair, her legs draped over the armrest of the loveseat. "Is it still about the Evil Dead guy?"

Max blinked at the woman as Garret rushed in to answer her question: the guy was completely obsessed with the films, and Max suspected he had a pretty big hand in deciding the theme for the night. Tiffany rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's immediate defense of the films, and Max stretched her long legs outward.

"Okay, I'm going to get us more food," she told the group, swatting Loki's hand away as it lingered on her leg. He chuckled softly behind her. "Do you want chips or popcorn?"

"Just do both," Tiff insisted. With a nod, Max moved toward the basement's staircase, stepping over Corey (who had flopped out on the floor to change the DVD) in the process.

"Do you need help?" It was Loki who had asked, and she shook her head sharply, looking him over her shoulder.

"No, I'm fine."

He nodded and settled back down onto the couch, gratefully accepting another beer from Garret. She sighed and then hurried up the stairs, only then realizing the absurdity of watching a horror movie whose horror began in a basement… in a basement.

Luckily enough, she had seen the movies already, and nothing about them really fazed her. Loki, on the other hand, actually jumped at a few of the more startling moments, though unlike Ben, he wasn't the type to hide behind his girlfriend's hair whenever he suspected something to pop out on the screen. She was also sure that if she confronted him about it later that night, he would deny ever being scared in the first place – the thought made her grin.

Although she wasn't necessarily a regular in Ben's house, she had been there long enough to know her way around just about every room – and most of the bedrooms. So, once in the kitchen, it was easy to locate a few bowls that were large enough for a bag or two of popcorn, and she retrieved the snacks she had brought with her from the reusable shopping bags on the table.

However, just as she was in the process of peeling the plastic wrapping off her popcorn bag, there was a gasp from the door. It was so loud and so sudden that it actually made her drop what she was doing and whirl around, only to glare a little when she saw Erica standing in the doorway, a hand on her chest as she panted dramatically.

"I'm _so_ sorry," she gushed, shaking her head and offering a titter as Max picked up the dropped bag of kernels. "I totally forgot you'd be in here… I guess I'm not the only one that movie makes jumpy!"

"I… wasn't…" Max took a deep breath, resisting the urge to snap that the movie hadn't made her jump, but rather Erica's unnecessarily dramatic gasp at the happenstance of running into Max in the kitchen – where she said she would be less than five minutes ago. "Yeah, I guess."

Although it would have made her feel good to snap at the woman, as her comment almost felt like a dig of some sort, Max decided she was going to keep it all civil. Well, as civil as passive aggressive could allow for, anyway.

"I figured I'd just do a drinks run while we're having a bit of a breather," Erica continued as she sauntered into the kitchen. Max briefly considered turning back and focusing all her attention on popping popcorn, but that seemed to be a little much. Instead, she stuffed the thin bag into the microwave and set the timer, then turned back to face the woman with her arms folded across her chest.

"You mean to tell me that they ran out of beer already?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. From what she recalled, there was an entire case sitting down there, and everyone had maybe had _one_ beer during the movie – though Loki may have had another one when she wasn't paying attention.

"Oh, no, I wanted something other than beer." Erica pulled open a cupboard door and stood up on her tiptoes, nibbling her plump lower lip for a moment as she studied the mugs. "It makes you bloat."

"Right."

She watched the woman choose the most girly mug of the bunch, and then she quickly moved on in search of some tea, muttering under her breath about the disorganization of the kitchen and the inability to find a simple tea bag. Max's eyes flickered over to the cookie jar that held the assortment of tea, but then honed in on her nails when Erica looked back at her.

"Do you know where they keep the tea?"

"The cookie jar," Max remarked dully, still focused on her nails. Erica giggled.

"What a stupid place for it!"

"Yeah." She glanced back over her shoulder when the popcorn made an obnoxious noise while spinning, and then turned back to face it completely, crouched over and arms still folded across her chest.

"So," Erica started again, "how're your classes and stuff going?"

Max sighed. "Fine."

"Well, that's good," the woman continued, hurrying across the kitchen to fill the kettle. "Mine are so hectic right now… Can't wait for this semester to be done, you know?"

"Hmm. Yup." She decided to busy herself by dumping the bag of chips into a large bowl, one that basically eclipsed the amount of chips in the bag. Max frowned: she could have gotten a second bag in there.

"So, you work at the bookstore, right?"

"Yeah." The woman already knew the answer to that question, and Max assumed she was looking for ways to fill the tedious silence between them. Her efforts were admirable, but clearly unnecessary: Max could have done all of this in silence.

"Okay," Erica snapped, slamming her mug down on the counter hard enough to make Max flinch, "can you not do that?"

"Do what?" she fired back, forcing her tone into something neutral.

"Give me attitude," the woman hissed, her hands finding an annoyingly high spot on her hips to rest. "I really haven't done anything to deserve it."

Max's eyebrows shot up, and she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay then."

"_Oh_ my god," she threw her hands up, clearly exasperated. "So I slept with your ex God knows _how_ many years ago! Who cares?!"

"I do," Max muttered, cheeks flushing at the memory, "and you hooked up with my current boyfriend _this_ year."

"Technically last year," Erica stated, pursing her lips for a moment, "and at the time you weren't dating."

"Whatever." She turned back to the microwave as it beeped noisily, glaring at the popped bag of popcorn.

"Is that what this is about?" Erica pressed. Max grabbed the bowl she planned to use for the popcorn forcefully, and then yanked open the bag and dumped the contents in. "Are you jealous that I'm dating Ben?"

"Oh my _God_, no," Max spat, yanking off the plastic from the next bag of kernels and then tossing it in the nearby sink before she threw the bag into the microwave. Her fingers actually hurt as she punched in the time on the microwave.

"Hey, ladies," Corey interrupted, poking his head in through the kitchen's doorway, "how's the popcorn coming-"

"Get out!" The order came from both Erica and Max in unison, and for a moment she wanted to laugh – she felt like she was on a sitcom. However, she kept the scowl on her face as Corey darted out.

"Look, you're one of his best friends," the woman said after a moment of tense silence. "I think we should try to be friends."

"I think that bridge has been burned," Max told her candidly. "I mean, I was trying to be civil-"

"Not very well."

"But you have a knack for pushing my buttons, and I know you _know_ that you know how to piss me off," she finished. "And sometimes I think you just do it for fun."

"That's not true."

"Whatever." Max scoffed and folded her arms once more. The urge to screech at the woman had started to fade away, though her temper was still at a dangerous precipice – one push was all she needed.

"Sometimes," Erica said slowly, "I feel like you don't… approve of me and Ben."

"I _don't_."

"Well, firstly, it's none of your business," the woman snapped, her voice trembling. "And secondly, we're great together."

"Oh, please…" She dropped the volume of her voice, worried that Ben might overhear. "I'm sure he's just a distraction for you while you look for someone better… I know your type."

"Wow, that's… really awful," Erica sputtered. "I really like him." Max nodded skeptically, and then grabbed the half-full chip bowl with the intentions of mixing the second bag of popcorn into it. "He makes me feel special, okay?"

"Okay." The response came more of habit than anything else, but the way Erica admitted it made Max look up sharply, a little thrown by the softness.

"He's such an attentive guy, you know?" she continued, fiddling with her ridiculously long nails. "He makes me feel like I matter." She paused. "Guys never really do that, you know?"

The tension eased out of her shoulders at the comment, and Max licked her lips before giving the smallest of nods. "I guess."

"So, you don't have to like me," the woman continued, moving to the kettle when it signaled that her water had boiled, "but you don't need to be blatantly rude to me… I really like him. I'm not going to hurt him."

"Well, I'll believe it when I see it," Max remarked tightly. The comment was some strange mix of earnest and contrived, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She resisted going into all the times that _Erica_ had belittled her with a smile on her face, because it felt like they were coming to some strange sort of resolution. "Let's just… both agree not to be bitches."

"I like that," the woman admitted with a chuckle. She extended her hand. "Shake on it?"

Max shook her head as the microwave signalled her popcorn's completion. "We're not there yet."

"Noted."

They said nothing further, and once Max had sorted out the snacks, she stacked both bowls on top of each other and headed for the basement. The conversations became hushed as she stepped off the bottom stair, and Loki arched an eyebrow at her.

"Is World War Six over?" Corey demanded. "Can I have my popcorn now?"

"What happened to three, four, and a five?" Max asked with a laugh, setting the non-mixed bowl in his lap before depositing the other on the battered coffee table in front of the TV.

"Girl, you don't even _want_ to know about three, four, and five," her friend insisted, his mouth full of popcorn. Loki shot him a mildly disgusted look as she settled down next to him again, curling up against his chest.

"You alright?" he inquired as the conversations about fake wars picked up with gusto. She nodded, and then tilted her head up to smile at him, his hand automatically going to her hair.

"Yeah, it's fine," she murmured. "I'm fine." She leaned up to kiss him, planting a soft peck on his cheek. "Thanks."

"For?"

"For just being you," Max said with a shrug, glancing at Erica as she hurried down the stairs, dramatically holding her tea cup as though it was scalding her fingers. It had a handle for a reason. "For…" For making her feel important. Like she mattered. Guys rarely did that. Fucking Erica was right. "For letting me use you as a human pillow for the rest of these movies."

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" He took a small swig of his beer, and Max grinned.

"No… No, you don't."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**I've gotten some very nice reviews about Max lately – as always, I'm so happy you all love her as much as I do, even with her silliness! For instance, her annoyance with Loki being everywhere all the time – that's a bit of me right there. I love my boyfriend. We know how to give each other space and whatnot, but sometimes if we see each other every day for a long time for, I dunno, a week or two, we get to that place where we are annoyed **_**much**_** faster with one another than we would be if we had some breathing room. But that's just me.**

**Also, I just recently watched the old _Evil Dead_ original, and I ended it being like "wtf did I just watch?" So. There's a bit of me fused into Loki's character. For those who haven't seen it... Do it. Just once. It's fucked, but I guess worth it?**

**UGH. Every time I finish a chapter, I get such mixed emotions. A part of me dies when I strike-out the chapter outline on my Word document, and then the other part of me is AMPED to start the sequel. I also planned out the third sequel in more detail today… and possibly outlined the plot for the fourth. Maybe this will be a series. We'll see. **

**Now, I'm not trying to make people sympathize with Erica or detract from the fact that she's kind of a bitch and a half, but I was basically getting at the idea that **_**everyone**_** has problems – the sexy temptress character in stories has her own set of insecurities and issues too. **

**Anyway. Loving all the feedback! Valentine's Day is what's in the near future for us, and I'm pretty pumped to write it. It's a bit… Well, it's classic Max and Loki, so get excited! **


	47. Feels

As Max slid her key into the lock, she hesitated, wondering what she might find on the other side. It was, after all, Valentine's Day, and she had just come home from classes, in which Ben had told her everything Garret did for Tiffany when the woman woke up that morning. In Max's opinion, breakfast in bed would have been enough, but the man also showered his girl with gifts and the promise of a romantic evening together with both Ben and Corey out of the house. Ben, on the other hand, seemed to impress Erica with a mix-CD and flowers, to which Max gave no more than an approving smile and an _"Oh, well done"_ when her friend asked if he should have done more. He, like Garret, also intended to take his woman out for dinner, and spent a ridiculous amount of time panicking over his outfit.

That morning, Max received no flowers, chocolates, or sticky-notes with professions of love on them. In fact, she awoke to a text from Loki stating that he was going to an earlier work-out class before his actual classes started, and he would see her when she returned in the afternoon. Neither of them worked that night, and a part of her wondered if her boyfriend may have chosen to get his work-out done in the morning so that he could have the evening to spend with her. She also recalled, however, that he recently said that he liked going to the gym in the mornings because no one was around, but that may not be the case.

Or it could be. They hadn't discussed any sort of plans for the commercialized holiday for lovers, though Max assumed they would do _something_. She wasn't the type to necessarily care about Valentine's Day; if she was seeing someone, they usually did something because – well, why not? It was a fun little holiday that gave couples an excuse to get dolled up and enjoy one another's company romantically. Loki wasn't necessarily the most romantic guy on the planet, but she thought he did a pretty decent job of it most of the time anyway. They didn't _need_ Valentine's Day to acknowledge that they were a couple, seeing as their relationship had been going fairly smooth since it started, but it still would have been fun to do something different.

Thankfully enough, the man had _finally_ started giving her space again. He no longer walked her to classes, nor did he suggest that they get groceries together. She wasn't sure what changed, but she was glad it did. He still insisted on meeting her after night shifts at the bookstore, but that was something she could tolerate more than the others – it was endearingly protective.

At that point, she wasn't even sure if she should bother to bring it up with him; he might have been going through a phase, and perhaps now it had finally passed. Her tentative plan was to let him bring it up when and if he should feel like it – he seemed to prefer that sort of approach to his more personal issues (cue family baggage). Max was happy to oblige: she wasn't the kind to pry for the sake of prying.

Therefore, she hadn't even bothered to find out if he had planned anything secret for her for Valentine's Day. Some women were able to decipher a man's plans by the way he acted around them, but for the most part, Loki seemed perfectly normal. Well, whatever normal was for Loki – he was still a man with a ridiculous amount of oddities. However, maybe one of those oddities would help him out with Valentine's Day surprises.

Max took a deep breath, her stomach knotting with giddy excitement, and finally turned the key, pushing the door open and hurrying out of the cold. There were no streamers, no balloons, and no heart-shaped boxes of chocolate anywhere. Instead, she found Loki in a pair of track pants and a t-shirt on the couch with _Maury_ blaring from the television screen and his laptop on his lap.

"Oh my god," Max started as Loki hastily clicked away from the screen that he was on. "Are you on _Facebook_?"

"No, no, I'm not," he insisted, closing his laptop and setting it down on the coffee table. "There was a link that took me there-"

"Whatever, I don't want to be your friend anyway," she said haughtily, grinning at his as she peeled off her jacket and slung it over the coatrack. "How was the gym?"

"Excellent." He turned to face her, resting his arms on the back of the couch. "It really is so much better to go in the morning… I haven't had to wait for a single machine yet."

"Well, good for you." She bent over to give him a quick kiss. "So, what are you up to tonight?"

He shrugged, head cocked to the side as he watched her set her backpack on the kitchen island. "Perhaps a movie? I thought I saw an advertisement for something I wanted…"

A quick check in the fridge showed no sign of a previously prepared Valentine's Day dinner – not even take-out – and she didn't find anything hidden around the kitchen. When she glanced back at Loki, she saw him scanning through the TV guide for something on at ten that night, completely oblivious to the fact that she was sniffing around for a gift. She almost felt a little silly: no one had given her a Valentine's Day gift since her last boyfriend, and she had _somehow_ survived the years.

It felt stupid to be let down by a lack of gifts around the apartment, but she couldn't help it.

"Ah, here it is!" She was halfway down the hall when she heard him speak again. "_Braveheart_… Seems exciting, doesn't it?"

"You haven't seen _Braveheart_?" Max asked, rolling her eyes a little as she did a quick check in her room – nothing.

"Don't you remember?" She sauntered back into the room as Loki switched the TV off. "I lived under a rock before you were here to educate me."

"Apparently." Max crossed her arms over her chest when he reached for his laptop again. "And under said rock, did they not bother with Valentine's Day at all?"

He paused for a moment, and then set his laptop back down. "Ah. Yes."

"I know we didn't really make any formal plans," she insisted, leaning back against the wall and shrugging when he glanced her way, "but I thought you might have… something… up your sleeve."

He gave a lengthy sigh and then beckoned for her to join him on the couch with a quick wave. Max hesitated for a moment, but then sauntered toward him, nibbling on her lower lip. Once she was close enough, he grabbed her by the hips and hauled her over the armrest of the couch, which made her squeal, and she ended up in a crumpled mess on his lap. Her indignation dissolved quickly into giggles when he nipped at her neck. He held her against him as if he was ready to hoist her up and carry her away, an arm tucked beneath her knees and around her back, and once she had settled, she gave him a quick peck, her arms looping around his neck.

"People have been talking about this _day_ all week," Loki murmured, his forehead to hers, "and I had thought that if you wished to do something, you would have told me."

"Lame," she chided playfully, tugging at his hair as he chuckled. "It's normally up to the _guy_ to make plans-"

"Why?"

"I don't know…" She trailed off when he raised his eyebrows at her, issuing a challenge. "Probably because we plan every other date during the rest of the year, and it's about time you did something for a change."

"Is that directed at all men, or just me?"

He grinned when she poked him sharply in the chest, and Max glanced down at her finger – it hurt.

"You're getting too hard for me," she insisted as she went for the hem of his shirt, keen on seeing the progress the gym had made lately.

"Said no woman ever."

"Ha-ha," she remarked, smirking down at the rather defined set of abs that awaited her beneath his shirt. They may have been sleeping together these past few nights, but they hadn't done anything since he tried in the kitchen and she turned him down. Perhaps she had scared him off for good with her refusal, but he definitely hadn't made another go of it since. She nudged at his peck with her knuckle, but made him twitch. "You're getting more solid every time I touch you… Maybe take a break from the weights?"

"You don't approve of muscular?"

"It makes it harder for me to use you as my pillow."

"Stop saying hard," he hissed, leaning forward and nipping at her lower lip, "or I'll show you what _hard_ really is."

"Gross!" Her cheeks flamed at the insinuation, but she wasn't necessarily against it. She might have been in a funk lately, but her sex drive seemed to be on the mend. "Keep it in your pants."

"If you insist," he said with a pout.

"I do." She shifted into a more comfortable position, easing her butt off his lap and onto the couch, her head on his shoulder. "Now, I hate to be a super huge girl about this, but I kind of want to do something for Valentine's Day."

"Ah." He tapped her nose lightly. "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know," she said, shrugging her shoulders with a sigh. "Dinner?"

"I do like to eat." He kissed her forehead when she sighed again and rolled her eyes. "It'll be my treat."

"That's more like it," she muttered. "I want to dress up… Do you have anything besides jeans and t-shirts in that closet of yours?"

His eyebrows shot up as he smirked. "I've been known to look quite dashing in a suit."

"Uh huh… I'll believe it when I see it."

"That sounds like a challenge," he purred. Max grinned as he leaned down, but just as she tilted her head up to kiss him, he pulled away. "I thought we had learned that I tend to win these little games."

She stole a kiss anyway. "You wish." Using his shoulder for support, Max eased herself to her feet, stomach aflutter and smile bright. "Get ready then… Maybe we'll beat the Valentine's rush at a restaurant somewhere."

"If we must…" Loki sighed, and she pushed him back down sharply as he tried to stand up, which earned her another laugh. Then, before he could snag her again, she darted out of his grasp and shut herself up in her bedroom. They hadn't actually ever gone on a date that required her to dress up. Yes, he had seen her in some nice dresses for New Year's Eve, but this felt different.

She had the exact dress in mind for such an occasion, and combed through her closet quickly to find it. The little red number was something she had purchased ages ago, but felt as if she couldn't wear it unless it was Christmas or Valentine's Day – sometimes there is such a thing as _too_ red. Still, this was the perfect occasion for it, and she peeled off her day clothes quickly, tossing them in the general direction of the hamper, but hesitated before pulling the dress on. Instead, she rummaged through her underwear drawer to find a black bra and lacy pair of underwear that would match, and then slipped those on. The dress came next, followed by a pair of nearly sheer black tights.

Luckily enough, she had moved some of her essential make-up out of the bathroom a few days ago when she was in a rush to get to class, and could therefore finish getting ready without Loki being able to steal a peak. She went a little heavier on the eye-shadow than usual, but only because the dress made her feel a little vamp – fitted to her frame with a neckline that ended right above her bra. Still, when the package was finished, Max thought she looked appropriately sexy for a dinner date on Valentine's Day, and she assumed she would outshine Loki in whatever pair of dark jeans and button-up shirt he managed to dig out of his closet.

She smirked at the thought.

After much fussing over her hair, she decided to add a few random curls to the wavy mess and call it a night. Loki seemed to like her with her tresses long, and was a fan of burying his face in her hair whenever they were on the verge of falling asleep. Normally, she would have gotten it cut by now, preferring it at a shoulder length, but because of his fondness for it in its current state, she left it alone. A final spritz of perfume settled the entire look, and Max grabbed a hair of black heels from her closet before darting out. They were going to be a pain to drive in, but the heels made her legs look great, and if there was one thing her man liked about her, it was her legs.

She came to an abrupt halt, however, as soon as she opened the door: there stood Loki, leaning on his doorway, clad in a rather well-tailored suit, a hand in his pocket and a smirk on his lips. Her eyes traveled up and down his long frame twice, not bothering to hide her surprise, and she heard him chuckle.

"You thought I was joking."

"I didn't even know you owned something like this," she told him, crossing the two steps between them and grabbing his tie firmly. "I like it."

"It was a recent purchase," he muttered. Max tugged him down by his tie, bringing her lips to his heatedly. She heard him inhale sharply, and his large hand spread across her lower back, pulling her to him as she nipped at his lower lip. There it was – passion. It was something they had pushed aside ever since she rebuffed him, and in that moment, she couldn't quite understand why.

She broke away when he fisted a hand in her hair, and then licked her lips, breathing heavily. "Don't mess up my hair."

Her voice was shaky, and she caught the obvious gleam of arousal in his eye. However, she _did_ say she wanted to go out, and she didn't want to let that gorgeous suit go to waste.

"Don't be a tease then," he hissed, slating his lips over hers harshly enough to make her drop her heels, her hand flying up to cup his face. However, her response was weaker than before, and their kiss fizzled out into something almost sweet – gentle. "Shall we go?"

She nodded, stroking his cheek with her thumb. "Your suit distracted me."

"And the man _in_ the suit?"

"He's okay, I guess," she replied as she ducked down to collect her shoes. She shot him a cheeky smirk and then sauntered toward the front door, unable to keep from smiling when she felt his gaze fall to her backside.

* * *

"That one won't have a spot open until eleven," Loki sighed as he slid back into the driver's seat of Max's vehicle, and he watched her face fall for the third time that evening, "and I believe they close a half hour later."

"They do."

He buckled himself in and eased the car away from the curb. After Max proved to be terrible in her heels, Loki decided it was necessary to take over the driving responsibilities for the night. "Well, is there anywhere else you'd like to try?"

He felt bad – he did. Although she hadn't asked for much, he could tell that there was something about this day that Max had built up in her head, and thus far nothing aside from his dapper new suit lived up to her expectations. He wasn't all that sure what she wanted from him; if only she knew "Valentine's Day" wasn't even a holiday worth considering on Asgard, and he hadn't the slightest idea that it existed until two days ago. When she hadn't bothered to mention it to him, he assumed she had no interest in partaking in the forced festivities, and yet here she was, disappointed that they couldn't find a restaurant that wasn't completely full – or overbooked.

"I don't know," she replied after a moment or so, fiddling with her nails. "I guess we could just go home."

"No, let's keep looking."

There had to be somewhere in this horrible little town that could house two people looking for something to eat. Loki's stomach wasn't about to let him turn back: both he and it knew there wasn't anything worth eating in their fridge. Besides, Max had gone through all that effort to look lovely for him, and he figured he ought to at least _try_ to make it up to her. He sighed as they rolled to a gentle stop at a red light.

Everything he had done lately had been for Max's sake, and it felt unusual to be so generous with someone aside from Thor. He had humoured her since the beginning, giving in to her gentle teasing and careful suggestions about getting out of the house. Now that he took her to bed and considered her his lady, he realized he would do just about anything she asked – within reason. It was… bothersome to know that he had let himself develop such grand feelings for a human, but seeing as it had been almost half a year since Odin stripped him of his powers, it seemed he was no more than a mere mortal himself; in a way, it was poetic.

Depressing, but poetic enough to keep him sane. No, Max kept him sane – the rest was a happy coincidence. No matter. She had been detrimental to his survival in this realm, and he was beyond fond of her. Therefore, with his uneasy feelings growing as time ticked on, he knew that he needed to keep her safe. The Pagurolid he had slaughtered had successfully taken a picture of him _and_ his companion, and in that moment, Max had become a weakness. Had he not started to care for her, he would have left her be – what did it matter to him if she was snatched? But now, he couldn't let that happen – he wouldn't. He wouldn't let her be used against him.

As far as he knew, Thor thought along the same lines with _his_ woman; based on Stark's most recent message, Thor had left in search of the rest of his little heroic group to inform them of the impending invasion, and he had taken that Jane woman with him. They thought alike in these matters, annoyingly enough. Loki knew what these creatures were capable of, and he couldn't stand the thought of one of them harvesting Max's body for its latest shell. It would be a terrible waste.

And it would hurt him. He tried not to dwell on that reality any more than necessary, and instead threw himself into watching out for her. Under his gaze, no one would take her. He may still be human, but he had gained a considerable amount of his strength back over these last few weeks. He grew stronger each day, though he would have appreciated a few of his other powers back. After all, a small percentage of his pre-punishment strength was handy at the gym, but he could have done with his powers of persuasion or the ability to duplicate himself. He wasn't all that sure what he would _do_ with said powers in Masonville, Vermont, but he assumed he would feel better prepared to face the next Pagurolid – one who was not a pathetic little scout – who wandered into town.

Unfortunately, Max didn't take to his hovering as well as he had hoped. He assumed the woman would be thrilled to have him by her side at all hours of the day, and yet after the first week she had already started to show signs of irritation toward the behaviour. He didn't like Max being irritated with him – it damaged his ego more than he cared to admit. After she had rejected him sexually, he started to suspect that her feelings for him were dwindling, and his constant presence only seemed to make things worse.

There were no tangible signs that she grew tired of him, but annoyance was usually the first step. Oh, yes, she had told him she cared very deeply for him, but Loki assumed she would become weary of him – just as they all did. Not that it mattered to him – let her grow bored of him! Perhaps if she continued to reject him, his own feelings would dissipate, and this life would be easier to forget when his powers were fully restored.

He had backed off recently when her annoyance was at its peak, but he still watched her from a distance, following her from one class to the other to ensure no one had an especially keen interest in her. After all, what else did he have to do with his time? He no longer needed to work to support himself – Stark saw to that – and it was clear that this "education" wasn't going to get him off of this realm anytime soon. He had grown complacent with domesticity because of her, and he was no longer sure what to do with himself. He would never admit it, but a part of him craved her attention. It needed her compassion and her kindness, and it certainly needed her affection. What she gave him made it easier to survive, especially when his future looked so bleak.

So, although he knew she would tire of him eventually, he couldn't let it happen now. No, he would keep her hooked until he could show her who he truly was – a god. She would see him for the being that lay beneath this mortal exterior, and then she would _never_ tire of him. He tried to keep her happy, and tonight that would entail finding her somewhere to show off the dress she had squeezed herself into.

"Max," he started, smacking her hand away as she went for play with the radio for the umpteenth time in such a short ride, "I don't care where we eat… You look lovely, and I'm starving, and I-"

"We could eat there…"

He followed the direction in which she pointed, and then smirked. "McDonald's?"

"It looks empty," she said with a laugh, sitting up and peering out the window, "and it would be reminiscent of our first meal together."

"Technically our first meal was that Chinese food you ordered," he recalled, switching on the signal and turning into the nearby parking lot.

"Yeah, but that night's a bit of a blur," she told him playfully. "What I do remember is feeding you McDonald's in the aftermath."

"Yes, I was quite the mess, wasn't I?" His voice was tight, not entirely able to make light of the incident just yet. Max, however, seemed not to notice – her usual smile remained.

"Oh, you definitely were."

They exited the vehicle and met at its helm, clasping hands and strolling together leisurely across the nearly vacant parking lot.

"Are you sure this is alright?" Loki inquired as he held open the door for her.

"I suggested it, didn't I?"

"You did-"

"Then it's fine," she told him firmly, taking his hand once more when they were inside. "I like this… It's unique."

"I suppose that's one way of saying it," Loki muttered. The place was nearly empty save for the young family seated near the giant plastic playhouse at the far side of the establishment. She might have wanted to eat here, but he certainly felt… out of place doing it. However, he trusted her to express her discontent if it were really an issue, and simply followed her lead with the ordering.

She ordered them a Big Mac meal each, and Loki quickly requested extra Mac Sauce before whipping out his wallet. Just as he had offered, he paid for the meal, though he had originally anticipated paying a great deal more for her that evening. However, she chattered away at him while they waited for their food as though she hadn't a care in the world, and he wondered if she was _actually_ fine with him as a person, and his paranoia was just that – misplaced nervousness.

Pathetic.

Once they had their orders filled, Max found them a booth far from the prying eyes of the employees at the back of the restaurant, and she shrugged off her coat before sliding into the booth. She looked… well, she looked delectable in that dress, and it had taken all his willpower not to yank her into his room when he first saw it and simply have his way with her.

They settled into an easy conversation about their days, and Loki listened attentively as Max regaled him with a story about one of her professors. Although the food wasn't exactly the best there was, they both took their time eating it, pausing to talk and laugh and drag out the meal for as long as possible. The subject of conversation eventually drifted toward Valentine's Day.

"Okay, so my most awkward Valentine's Day," Max started after she swallowed a mouthful of fries, "was in fifth grade… The boy I had a crush on gave everyone a card in our class except for me, and I was _devastated_. Then, at recess, he threw a handful of chocolate hearts at me and ran." She snorted loudly when Loki's eyebrows shot up, a hand covering her mouth – it hid her slightly flushed cheeks. "Everyone made fun of us for the rest of the day, saying that we were boyfriend and girlfriend, and he ended up crying in the bathroom."

"That sounds… horrible," he managed, dipping the edge of his burger in Mac Sauce before taking a quick bite. "I'm glad to see you've recovered from such a trauma."

She nodded, rolling her eyes a little. "Kids are so dramatic." He watched her lips wrap around her straw as she took a quick sip, and then blinked away the distraction. "Your turn… Worst Valentine's Day."

"I…" He trailed off; he should have worked out a story for this earlier. "I can't say I've ever been with someone for Valentine's Day."

"Seriously?" He shrugged when she scoffed at him, her eyebrows up in disbelief. "Okay, worst date then."

Loki cleared his throat and then set his burger down before wiping his hands on a nearby napkin. "Alright, I'll give you the moment I regret the most with a girl…"

There was a long sigh from across the table. "Fine."

"When I was younger, I was woefully smitten with a… family friend," Loki told her, trying to get around stating the woman's name – Sif – before Max started to make real connections between himself, Thor, and other Asgardians. "She was quite pretty, athletic, sharp-tongued… but she preferred my brother to me."

"Boo," Max commented.

"Yes, boo indeed," he said with a chuckle, fiddling with his pinky finger. "Well, I was a jealous, petty boy… and… when she stayed over one night, I… I cut off all her hair."

"Loki!" He winced a little when she kicked him under the tables, her shock quite obviously written across her face. "That's awful!"

"I know, I know," he insisted, holding his hands up in surrender to her chastisement. "I was punished deeply for it, and I don't think she has ever forgiven me."

"Nope, I wouldn't either," she told him with a shake of her head. "That's a little fucked up."

"I'll not argue with that," he agreed as he resumed his meal. "Like I said, I was a petty and jealous boy… You can see why I don't have many stories with women to share."

"But you aren't like that now," she remarked, leaning against the back of the booth with her arms resting on the table. "Didn't you date in your twenties?"

He swallowed thickly and shook his head. "No one worth mentioning."

Servant girls taken quickly in the shadows or noblemen's daughters who thought it fun to have a secret affair with the lesser prince certainly were not worth mentioning.

"Oh."

"I think, in many ways, I'm still that boy sometimes," he admitted after a lengthy pause in the conversation, interrupted only by Max's noisy drinking from a nearly empty cup. "You make me want to be a better person."

She gave a nervous chuckle as she set her cup down. "I don't know how that's possible… You're like… the epitome of refinery and class." He smirked at the omission. "I mean, I always used to feel like I had to be on my best behaviour or you'd judge me."

"And I did." He laughed when she kicked him again. "Only a little, mind you."

"Yeah, well, likewise."

"And what have I done to warrant judgement?"

"I don't think I should have to tell a twenty-six year old that he needs to cut his toenails in the bathroom," Max insisted, "and not in the living room."

"That happened once," he muttered, dunking a pair of fries into his ketchup, "and I was very tired that night."

"Right."

"Yes, right." He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, watching her as she crumpled up her empty wrapper and set it back on the tray. "I am sorry."

Her eyebrows shot up. "For what?"

"For not giving you an adequate evening of romance," he told her. "That's what this day is supposed to be about, is it not?"

Well, that was what the Wikipedia entry had said at the very least. Max smiled softly and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"It's not just… It's not just the gimmicky bit about Valentine's Day that makes it worthwhile," she told him, her voice somewhat subdued. "Sometimes couples need that day to take a minute to remember what they love about each other…" Her cheeks flushed when they both realized what particular word she had just used. She cleared her throat, ignoring it. "Sometimes it's easy to go about your daily life and not really remember to take the time to care."

"Hmm." In that moment, he decided not to call her out on her choice of diction. She didn't love him, just as he did not love her. He hardly even knew what love could feel like, but he knew that he didn't feel it for Max Wright. Though, in all seriousness, he realized he might have teetered on a dangerous precipice – he realized he might have been close to it – to love, or whatever it was. The realization in itself was actually more startling than Max's accidental usage, and it made his chest tight. "And what is it… that you…" He pursed his lips as he chose another word, "_like_ about me?"

"Well," she started, noticeably relieved that he hadn't focused on her mistake, "you look quite dashing in a suit."

"That's a given."

She grinned. "And you make me laugh… all the time. You're patient and attentive. You make me feel secure and looked after… but then you also let me look after you, which I like to do." He glanced down at his hands, unable to hold her gaze. "You're also kind of a dick sometimes, and I like that too."

"Do you?" The question was genuine.

"Yeah." She reached out and tentatively touched the tips of her fingers to his. "I'm glad you're here."

He covered both of her hands in return, holding them between his. "I'm glad…" He couldn't bring himself to say it back. He couldn't quite bring himself to say that particular lie. "I'm glad to have met you."

"Are you ready to go?" she asked, noticeably touched by his words. "This place is kind of killing the romance buzz."

"Agreed."

She gathered up their garbage as he slipped into his coat, all the while mulling over her words. He continued to be lost in his thoughts as they walked back to the car, hand in hand again, and even more so once they were on the road. Max seemed not to mind the silence, and he let her get away with jumping between radio stations more than he would have on any regular occasion.

Loki was overwhelmed. He couldn't process much of what he had felt in the last hour, and a part of him didn't want to. It would have been easier to repress it or shoo it off as a lie. Max, however, wasn't exactly the most talented liar he had ever met, and he barely had any space left in him to repress _more_ emotion. Instead, he decided to act on it. Rather than taking them on the usual route home, Loki turned and decided on the scenic route along the winding roads on the outskirts of the town. When he found a location remote enough near his old running trail, he pulled the car over and turned it off.

"What are you-"

Before she could ask, he reached across and dragged her face to his, taking her by the lips. His spare hand fumbled over their seatbelts, pushing the dark red buttons to free them from their constraints as Max's lips parted willingly for him. She clambered across the car until she was settled on his lap, and his lips soon found her neck, nipping and sucking and teasing the sensitive flesh as she moaned softly in his ear.

Their positioning was slightly awkward, as Max kept knocking into the steering wheel, but that was sorted when she reclined the seat back further. He hadn't the time or the patience to take her slowly, but he did want to see her. Despite the cold that slowly crept in from the outdoors, Loki managed to wrestle her out of her jacket, preferring the view that lay beneath. His lips claimed hers once more, easily coaxing her into passion as she fisted her fingers in his hair.

They shared their need – she was just as keen for him as he was for her. After hiking her snug skirt up to her waist and slipping his hand between her thighs, beneath the lacy fabric and constraining tights, he found ample evidence of her eagerness. She shuddered against him when he slipped a pair of fingers into her with ease, her wet core warm and deliciously inviting. He resisted the urge to simply rip those awful tights from her legs, but he knew she would be annoyed with him in the aftermath. Instead, he tugged then down as much as he possibly could, and then went for his belt. Her fingers joined his, and he groaned her name noisily when she grabbed him, running her hand up and down his entire length before thumbing the sensitive tip.

"Enough," he hissed, batting her hand away and yanking her hips down toward him. "_Enough_."

She cried out hoarsely when he thrust up, filling her so swiftly and sharply that he feared her might have hurt her. However, her eyes read nothing but desire – need – and he saw no reason to deny her of it. He took her roughly, thrusting up against her harshly enough to make her whimper, yet she didn't complain. No, she wrapped an arm around his neck and simply clung to him, and Loki accepted whatever kisses she saw fit to give.

He knew he should have been more careful with her, as his strength certainly doubled hers now, but he couldn't help himself. Loki took her selfishly, only really noticing her pleasure when she clenched around him, her eyes pressed shut tightly and his name on her lips. He lost himself in her grateful kisses, grasping her to him and burying his face against her neck.

In the aftermath, he could feel her pulse against his skin, her breathing rapid and haggard.

"It's been a while," she murmured, planting a soft kiss to his cheek as she eased off of him. They would definitely need a shower when they returned to the apartment – and his pants would need a good washing.

"It has," he agreed as she shifted so that she curled up against him. His thumb found her cheek, and he stroked it gently. "It certainly has."

"I think this has been my _classiest_ Valentine's Day ever," she said with a giggle, tilting her head up to beam at him. "I mean… dinner at McDonald's and sex on a road that looks like a scene from a horror movie? You did good."

"Well, I… tried."

"I know," she whispered. "I think this was my classiest and _best_ Valentine's Day so far."

He swallowed thickly, and then kissed the top of her head. "Mine too."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**I'm not all that sure what happened to my usual reviewers, but I think I managed to get five or six of my regulars out of the hundreds of people who read the last chapter. My bad that we missed out on Loki, but he's back and he'll be a constant presence in all the remaining chapters. Also, I realize this chapter was sappy, but that's why it has the title it does – for the feels. SPOILER: Shit hits the fan for these two, so let them have their moments. **

**I also wrote Loki like this in this chapter because I think that without his powers, a lot of his old insecurities about people and relationships are starting to come back and affect him in a big way. Erhm. So that's my thought train. Choo choooo. **

**I personally don't give two shits about Valentine's Day. My birthday falls pretty close to it, so my boyfriend and I usually merge the two together and get sloppy with take-out and movies. Because. It's the epitome of class - like Loki. **

**A reviewer asked me how long it takes to write my chapters, and since they didn't have an FF account, I figured I'd just answer here – it really depends. This chapter took me a day and a half from start to finish, but sometimes it takes me a couple of days in which I try to average 500-1000 words a day for the sake of my wrists. Sometimes muse strikes and I can get almost everything done in a day. But yes. It depends!**

**Now, for those who like little teasers for upcoming chapters – Loki gets a reward, and someone from the Avengers crew suffers a loss. Get excited, because I am!**

**Thank you all for your continued support and love and feedback and reblogs from tumblr and everything. You're amazing. I wuv you. UNTIL NEXT TIME. UP, UP AND AWAAAAAAY! **


	48. Tit for Tat

"Is there someone standing on the tarmac?"

Natasha squinted in the general direction that Clint pointed, and she frowned when she spotted the lone lumbering agent waiting on the otherwise clear runway. They had only just communicated their return to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base in Hammerfest, and when they received no response in return, they feared that Agent 22 had made short work of the remainder of the agents there.

As she had expected, Station Nord was completely decimated when she and Clint arrived. There were no signs of the scientists or the military officials that usually lived at the Greenland base, but rather a bag full of vital organs. There was enough blood and gut to account for almost ten people, but she was at a loss about what they had done with the skins. At this point, the situation was starting to seem eerily familiar to the hollowed out bodies they had discovered in Bangkok, but for now they operated on the assumption that it was merely a coincidence.

Everything inside the underground cavern that held the old flying wing was destroyed. Records, equipment, and people were burned – the scent of rotted corpse was fresh when she and Clint barreled in – and every scrap of information that might have been helpful was gone. Agent 22 had taken every ounce of potential fuel in the place, which meant Clint and Natasha had no choice but to find somewhere else to refuel their plane rather than pursue their opponent. Instead of directly returning to Hammerfest, however, they hopped down to a small S.H.I.E.L.D. base in rural Iceland in order to refuel. A part of her had hoped that 22 had made some sort of stopover there, but none of the ground-staff had any knowledge of the man's whereabouts.

Dejected and severely pissed off, Natasha forced Clint to go on an aerial patrol with her for almost a week straight around various locations in Europe. She wasn't sure what she was trying to accomplish – as if she would someday stumble upon the flying wing cruising above Berlin – but she couldn't sit around waiting for something to happen. Clint forbade her from spilling any of their new knowledge about 22 to anyone in the agency, and for once, Natasha agreed with his direct order. They had no idea who was on 22's side, and they weren't about to give away more information than necessary.

Still, when their aerial surveillance proved useless, they collectively decided to return their plane to Hammerfest and use the base's high-tech satellite connections to begin a proper search for the stolen aircraft. After all, the plane had no abilities to become invisible; if it was in the sky, Natasha planned to find it.

She shot Clint a look as he studied the man on the runway. "Should we land?"

"I think it's the Captain," he told her, pressing closer. "Yeah, keep going."

"What's he doing in Norway?" she mused as she flicked a few switches above her. The plane jolted a little as the wheels burst forth from the bottom. Flaps on the wings helped slow their descent, and she braced herself for a somewhat bumpy landing – the Captain's presence had thrown her just enough that she started their landing procedures late. Still, they managed to get the aircraft stopped safely, and she spotted Steve Rogers jogging across the wet, snowy tarmac toward them in his classic brown leather jacket.

Clint spoke to him first on the passenger's side of the plane, and Natasha quickly rounded the front to greet her comrade.

"What brings you to Norway, Captain Rogers?" she asked as they shook hands. Norway was almost as unbearably cold as Greenland was, but at least she could function outside without a parka.

"Aliens, Agent Romanoff," the man told her with a sigh. Her grip faltered before they released each other's hands. "I think it's best if we discuss this inside. Thor and Jane are waiting in one of the conference rooms… Jane's making sure it isn't wired."

Then, as though he hadn't just dropped a bomb on them, the Captain turned sharply and strode back toward the base. Clint tugged her by the forearm toward the building, though he seemed equally confused at the omission.

"Aliens?"

"Let's just hear what they have to say," she muttered. She raised her voice to address Steve once more, wanting to get the information before they joined the others. "Who is Jane?"

"Jane Foster," he replied without missing a beat, glancing over his shoulder to respond. "Thor brought her… He doesn't trust anyone else to keep her safe these days."

"What the hell happened while we were off the grid?" Clint demanded. Natasha shot him a smirk, and the pair quickly fell silent after they entered the base. She unzipped her coat, but otherwise kept a steady pace behind Steve as they took the stairwell down three floors – apparently, he didn't trust the elevators. As expected, Thor's looming form awaited them in the circular conference room, and Natasha quickly spotted a slender brunette removing a microphone was a hole in the wall, a rectangular device in her other hand.

"Ah, my friends!" Thor boomed, his arms extended as he approached them. "It makes me happy to see that you are well."

"Thanks, man," Clint grunted as he was dragged into what appeared to be a crushing embrace by the burly Asgardian. "I'm glad to see you too…"

Natasha smiled when the man took her hand to kiss, but kept her eyes focused on the woman in the background. Jane Foster had been in the S.H.I.E.L.D. database just as long as Thor had, but Natasha never thought she would have any reason to interact with the scientist. Once she had dragged the microphone and its wires out of the wall, Jane tossed them on the nearby table, and then turned to smile at her and Clint.

"Hi," she greeted, tucking her hair behind her ear as she crossed the room. "I'm Jane."

"Clint," her companion said in return as they shook hands, "and this is Natasha."

She did not extend her hand for the woman to shake, however, and they merely exchanged formal head nods instead – Natasha preferred less bodily contact, please and thank you.

"I'm pretty sure I got all of them," Jane insisted. Natasha then noticed there were four other microphones of varying sizes scattered across the black table in the centre of the room, and she quickly scanned the walls to find the rest of the holes.

"Secrecy is absolutely necessary at this stage," Steve told her. "We no longer know if anyone has been taken."

Natasha frowned at him, and as the rest moved to take a seat around the table, she lingered back by the wall, her hands resting against it.

"What the hell's been going on?"

It was Clint who made the demand, and she saw Thor and Steve exchange weary looks before the Captain spoke. He spared them no details: there were aliens among them. Again. The creatures had apparently snuck in during Loki's failed invasion earlier in the previous year, and were now living inside humans – unable to survive Earth's atmosphere without a protective shell. Apparently, Stark, Banner, Steve, and Thor had been trying to track the creatures' whereabouts for months, but they had no luck aside from one who had tried to attack Loki in Vermont.

"Wait, Loki's in Vermont?" Clint interrupted. "When did this happen?"

"Late this last year," Thor replied, drumming his fingers on the table; Jane touched his arm and they stilled. "My father took his powers and sent him to this realm as a punishment for his deeds… He has been living as a human ever since until he learns his lesson."

"We'll check back in with him in the next decade," Clint chuckled, which earned him a grave look from the Asgardian at his left.

"My brother has made strides these past months," the man insisted. "He was the one who discovered the empty bodies in… in…"

"Thailand," Jane offered.

"Yes, Thailand."

"Stark sent us to warn you when we discovered that you two were investigating empty bodies in Bangkok," Steve continued. "I wanted to bring Fury in on the situation, but-"

"Don't," Natasha said quickly. Steve looked at her over his shoulder, and she shook her head at him. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has been compromised."

"Do you think he's been… physically compromised?" Clint asked, cutting Steve off before the man could inquire further. "I mean, invasion of the body snatchers hits and we've got an agent who did a one-eighty personality-wise?"

"One-eighty seems a little generous," she muttered.

"I mean, yeah, he was always a dick-"

"Can one of you fill us in on your situation?" Steve asked, a mild hint of annoyance in his tone. Her eyebrows shot up, and he quickly added, "Please?"

She let Clint handle the storytelling, ignoring the way he had the natural tendency to embellish a few details here and there. Did he have something there about Agent 22? She could have been sitting in on an alien conspiracy from the beginning and she would have never known. Although her research and observations on the hollowed bodies had been limited in Bangkok, she never would have jumped to a conclusion about extraterrestrial tampering: people on this planet were fucked up enough to carve a person out if they wanted to.

A few years ago, she would have laughed if someone told her that aliens were causing havoc on Earth. But she had seen things. She had seen gods and monsters fall from the sky. She had seen mutants move objects with their minds. She had met Bruce Banner – and his other half. Everything and anything seemed possible now, and she wasn't going to waste time trying to decide if these Pagurolids (or whatever they were called) were real.

Stark was rarely wrong – one of his more annoying traits – and it seemed that Steve was completely behind this. Thor had the lore to back it up, and there was a rational, intelligent scientist seated right across the room from her who believed wholeheartedly that there were aliens living inside people.

This was real. It was a threat, and they needed to handle it before people died by the hundreds.

"So your rogue agent is currently flying Hydra's old plane?" Steve folded his arms across his chest and rose, pacing the room. "And you think he might have been infected?"

"Is that what we're calling it now? Infected?"

He met her gaze when she spoke. "What else should we call it?"

"Murdered," Clint offered. "The people themselves are gone… It's just a bunch of aliens wearing fancy human coats. I'd like to put an arrow in their gut."

"We need to get up in the air and take back that plane," Steve insisted. "The last I heard was that Fury is in the sky too… He should be warned."

"We've been hesitant about sharing information unless it's in person," Natasha informed him. "I'm sure you can understand why now."

"Even if he isn't… infected," Steve said, "your agent is a liability, and he's probably gunning for Fury's aircraft."

"Wouldn't surprise me."

"He must be stopped," Thor stated. An unnecessary statement, but she was somewhat glad to have the Asgardian behind her on this. "We should contact Stark and Banner… We will need their help."

"Stark could be here in a matter of hours," the Captain agreed. "He could be the air support we need if it came down to a fight."

"He would be our only air support," Natasha said, exchanging a brief look with Clint. "The plane outside has no weapons on it."

"Well, Stark has the technology to find anyone and anything," Jane piped up. "I mean, from what he's shown me… I bet he could find the missing plane before anyone else does, and keep it quiet."

Natasha watched Steve pull out his phone, which was incredibly modern for someone like Steve, and slide his thumb across the screen. A slight tilt of her head showed that the phone was a Stark Industries baby – that made much more sense.

"Stark?" Natasha pushed herself off the wall and went to study the destroyed microphone on the table. "Yeah, we need you in Norway right away. I can't explain it over the phone… What? No…"

Her eyes narrowed at the small black gadget in her hand – it looked nothing like she had ever seen before around the agency. As Steve argued with Stark, his voice rising and falling as his frustration seemed to mount, Natasha scanned the room for the holes that Jane had left in the wall. Most of them were along the upper half of it, and it appeared Thor had punched the area inward once her little device detected a wire. Natasha felt her stomach knot uncomfortably when she ran her eyes along the base of the room, around the circular floorboards, until she spotted an area that looked to be freshly painted.

Lips pursed, she descended upon it and pulled the knife off her ankle holster. She stabbed it into the wall and hacked away at it until she broke through completely.

"You missed one," she said as she yanked the microphone out, holding it up for the rest of the room to see.

Jane's lips parted, but before she could get a word in, the doors behind her flew open, and Natasha dropped to her knees at the sound of gunshots. She spotted Thor pushing the brunette scientist beneath the table as the woman held a bloodied shoulder. Moments later, the Asgardian sprung to action, and Natasha weaved her way quietly around the edge of the table. There were three of them, and as Thor tackled two at once, Natasha hurled her knife for the third gunman. Blood spurted from his neck when the knife found its target. Silence fell when Thor dropped the other two men, who were dressed in janitorial uniforms. The one she had murdered was an agent, though she hadn't a clue what he was called.

"Jane!"

"I'm fine," the woman replied shakily. Natasha stalked across the room to check on Clint, who hid behind an overturned chair. He wasn't hiding like a coward, but rather a predator waiting for its prey to stroll by. "I think it went straight through."

"She needs a medic," Steve insisted as Thor cradled the woman to his chest.

"I can patch her up in the meantime," Natasha offered, "but we can't stay here."

"I'll get the plane ready," Clint told her. He looked back at the Captain. "Get Stark here."

"He's on his way."

* * *

"Are the lights always this bright?" Loki demanded irritably, squinting up at the fluorescent white bulbs that glared down at him from the ceiling of the grocery store. "I seem to recall struggling _less_ the last time we were in here—"

"Stop yelling," Max groaned as she leaned heavily on the cart. They practically inched down the aisle together, a pathetic display of two people unable to handle their drink, and Loki winced when the wheels screeched to a stop. He watched her shovel an armful of ready-made pasta mixes into the cart and then carry on in miserable silence.

He _knew_ they shouldn't have consumed as much alcohol as they did the night before, and yet at the time it had seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do. Despite Loki's protests to the idea, Max had volunteered to host a surprise birthday celebration for Ben in their apartment. All of their friends had been invited, and Loki had somehow been roped into helping her turn their living area into a themed party, complete with _Star Trek_ paraphernalia hanging from the ceiling. He hadn't the slightest idea what _Star Trek_ was, but he managed to do a bit of reading before the party took place, and he decided it was an idea he could get behind – space travel, aliens, and life-or-death situations were actually quite appealing after almost seven months in this realm.

The party had gone swimmingly well. All of Max and Ben's friends trickled in, and Loki had been in charge of flicking the lights on when Ben walked into the darkened apartment. The man was aptly surprised when he realized the entire night was planned for him, though he thanked Max too much – lingered in their hug for too long. Once the party had kicked off, Loki spent the first half of it trying to interfere with Ben's efforts to get Max alone, and then the other half playing drinking games in order to keep his woman happy. It wasn't until two that morning that people finally started to drift off, and Loki ended up falling asleep at the kitchen island before the last of them departed.

Somehow, he awoke that morning in Max's bed, though they both felt far too miserable to do much beyond complain and argue over who was to fetch the water to nurse their throbbing heads. As expected, Loki lost said argument, but he decided it was because his head hurt more than hers, and the sound of her nagging was enough to drive him to madness.

When the spinning and aching had finally subsided, they both shared the shower, and Loki decided that it was the most non-sexual experience he had ever had with the woman while naked. Neither of them expressed the slightest hint of wanting to do more than get doused with cold water, and he barely had the urge to kiss her – he was never going to drink again. The shower and a large intake of water managed to clear their heads enough to make something to eat, but they quickly discovered that the only thing worth eating in the fridge was a carton of eggs, and neither of their stomachs could fathom the thought of it. So, after they dressed, Max drove them down to McDonald's for a combination of French fries and milkshakes, and then it was off to the grocery store to restock their pitifully empty pantry.

Unfortunately, it was in the grocery store that Loki's pounding headache returned, and Max seemed to be doing only marginally better.

"Do we need butter?" she asked as they rounded the end of the aisle. She swerved their cart to avoid knocking into an elderly woman, who shot the pair a scowl.

"We need everything," Loki muttered. "Buy whatever you like… I'll pay for it this time."

Well, Stark would pay for it this time. He smirked a little as he checked for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," she sighed. "I mean, all I want to do is grab chips and go home."

"That sounds appealing."

"But we need everything, like you said," she insisted as she wrangled the metallic cart into the next aisle. "I just wish I didn't feel so shitty."

"Hmm." He nodded when she glanced back at him, and then grabbed a bottle of salad dressing off the shelf and tossed it in the cart. "Perhaps we should hire someone to do this for us." She snorted loudly, rolling her eyes. "At least we would have a full pantry every week."

"I guess. We do seem to be consistently lacking in that department."

Loki watched her pick through the jars of pickles until she found that one that appealed to her. Despite the fact that they all looked the same, Max seemed to think that there were different quantities of pickle inside each jar, and therefore prided herself on her ability to see through their schemes. Loki usually watched with amusement – she had the strangest ideas about the grocery store – until he grew tired of her antics and wandered off elsewhere.

With the pickles sorted, he trudged along behind her, hands clasped behind his back and eyes wandering the shelves for anything that might catch his interest. They were two aisles over when they finally stopped at Max's behest, and Loki grinned when she bounced away from the cart to the nearest shelf.

"Oh my god," she squealed, hands up and fisted in delight. "Ten cent jello packets!"

"Woman," Loki groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically as she began tossing handfuls of white packets into their cart. He had yet to understand her obsession with that gelatinized juice: the texture was grotesque and it hardly had any taste. However, despite all its glaring negatives, Max could sit in front of the television screen for hours and slurp away at a bowl of it.

Loki managed to snatch the final packet out of her hand, holding it away from her with a narrowed look. "I think you have more than enough already."

"Don't judge me," she snapped as she tried to grab the packet from his hand, which he held just out of reach. "That's the only kiwi-strawberry one they have… Put it in the cart."

"No."

"Fine, then give it back," she demanded with a laugh, the first sound that day that did not want to make his ears bleed. She tried to take it back once more, but Loki danced just out of reach, a mischievous grin on his lips as she scowled at him. "Loki!"

"If you want it, take it."

"You're actually a six year old," she hissed. It was quite obvious, however, that she wasn't entirely displeased with him – he could see the playful gleam in her eye. "Give me the fucking jello-"

"Language," he whispered when a woman at the end of the aisle shot them a glare. He saw his lover's cheeks flush as the woman hurried away.

"Give it back," she ordered once more, lunging for the packet of powdered nonsense when Loki held it out in front of her, and he laughed when she missed again.

"I shall return your precious dessert if you can guess which hand I am holding it in," he told her cheekily. He grasped it in his left hand and hid it behind his back, alternating it between hands as she scrutinized him. "Guess."

She pursed her lips, eyes narrowed, and then pointed to his left side. "Right hand."

His eye twitched when she guessed correctly, but he wasn't ready for their little game to be over yet – it was a wonderful distraction from the hangover. He hesitated for a moment, and then switched it over to his left.

"Guess again."

"Liar!" she cried when he showed her his empty right hand, and he stepped away from her with a chuckle as she lurched forward. Had he the power to do so, he would have made the packet disappear. His hand tightened around the pack. In the past, he could have turned it into anything – he could have sent it anywhere. He only needed to concentrate on it hard enough…

And it disappeared. His face returned to neutral when he felt the small package leave his hand, and he brought his left arm forward as Max tugged on it, stunned to find his hand empty when she pried it open.

"What did you do?" she said with a giggle. "Tuck it into your pants? Gross, man."

Loki held his arms out as she circled around him, and he felt her tugging at his shirt and pants in an effort to find her stolen packet of jello. His green eyes drifted listlessly to his right hand, and without thinking too deeply on it, he summoned the vanished item as he might have done in the past. Then, without a moment's hesitation, it reappeared, sitting contently in the palm of his upturned hand.

"Here, Max," he said weakly, showing her the object when she worked her way back to his front, her hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. "Here it is."

"How did you do that?" she asked as she snatched the packet back up, holding it protectively to her chest. "Where was it?"

"It was magic," he told her earnestly, much more stunned at the revelation than she seemed to be. "I can do magic."

Again. He could perform magic again. He could vanquish and recall lost items telepathically as he could when he was a boy.

Strength and magic. Both in small doses – but there was no denying his abilities were slowly returning to him.

"Magic?" Max said with a scoff. He met her gaze and nodded; perhaps it was time to tell her – to give some hint to his true parentage and background. However, she quickly dismissed the idea when she rolled her eyes and laughed. "I'm too hungover for mind games today… Let's just get our shit and get out of here."

"Ever the eloquent lady," he managed as she turned away. "So pretty with your prose."

"Stop judging me," she whined, tossing the packet into their cart and glancing back at him. "Do you want to get those pizza pocket things again? I'm kind of craving them all of a sudden."

"Yes, that sounds perfect," he told her softly once he was back by her side. She grinned up at him, not a care in the world that she had just been a part of his summoning of pure magic. He assumed she simply hadn't realized that it was actual magic; her physical discomfort would have undoubtedly skewed her perception of the event. When he had the time and place, he would show her _real_ magic again, and he knew she would never grow tired of him – not when he had a way to prove his superiority.

"Oh, look!" Max swatted at his arm keenly. "Popcorn is also on sale… Best shopping trip ever."

"Is it?"

"Well, monstrous hangover aside, yes," she told him wearily. "Let's just-" She hastily brought their cart to a halt before it collided with a man coming out of the aisle. "Oh, I'm sorry."

He gave them both a once-over and rolled his eyes. "Fucking kids."

Max's jaw dropped as the fellow walked away grumbling. "Rude."

"Rude indeed," Loki muttered. He looked over his shoulder, a hand resting on Max's lower back, and then willed one of the wheels of the man's cart to disappear. When it did, the contraption pitched forward abruptly, nearly knocking the man over in the process, and sent a few of his heavier items tumbling. He grinned as the man scrambled to right everything, a baffled expression on his face when he crouched down to examine the cart's folly. Loki, meanwhile, glanced up at the ceiling, as though looking directly at Odin, and arched an eyebrow. "Don't take it away… He was rude to my lady."

The phrase was whispered so quietly that he knew Max wouldn't hear – she was far too distracted by discount popcorn and chip dip to notice anything else. However, he knew the All-father heard; if anything, Heimdall heard, which meant Odin wouldn't be uninformed for long. Still, he would test the full extent to his powers once they had returned to their apartment that afternoon – what more could he do now?

* * *

Pepper sighed as she plugged the kettle into the outlet and then flipped the switch. She had her mug ready to go with the tea bag inside, and Jarvis was in the process of setting up her TV in the master bedroom for a night of guilty pleasures. It was the first time in a long time that she would be able to watch whatever she wanted in bed, and she intended to take full advantage of her fiancé's absence and enjoy it.

Tony had been called out the day before by the rest of the team, and after consulting with Bruce, he suited up and departed for Norway – leaving Bruce behind the man the fort, sort of speak. He seemed less than impressed with the idea of leaving, but it was fairly obvious that his ridiculous brainpower was needed elsewhere, and Pepper knew it would be good for him to be hands-on with something again. In the aftermath of everything that happened in New York, he had been more reclusive than she had ever seen him, and it wasn't until Thor and Steve Rogers strolled back into his life that he seemed to have a purpose again.

Well, no, he always had a purpose. Despite her initial fears about Tony Stark and fatherhood, the man was adjusting well to the idea. A part of her wondered if it was because he was, by nature, a giant man-child himself, and the idea of having another kid wandering around Stark Tower made him excited. Whatever the reason may be, Tony had surprised her, and that was a rarity in their relationship. He had already furnished their child's room, despite the fact that they had no idea what the sex was and that the fetus had only recently developed nostrils. Perhaps it was their scare early in the pregnancy that forced him into action: she awoke one morning to heavy spotting, and after Tony rushed her to the hospital, they quickly discovered that everything was normal, though Pepper was still required to take a week of bed rest to be sure.

After the incident, Tony had been more attentive than she had ever seen him, but the alien issue – _secret_ alien issue that she knew nothing about – was really monopolizing his attention lately. Pepper didn't mind: he didn't need to see her morning sickness, nor did she need his snarky teasing when she raided the fridge for something insane to eat. She had only just started to actually show about two weeks ago; her life went on as usual (though with an increasingly adjusted waistline), and she expected Tony to do the same. She could handle his absence for one weekend. In fact, her schedule had been so hectic lately at work that she almost _needed_ him to be gone for a few days in order for her to recover some of her sanity.

So, after spending the afternoon getting caught up on everything that she needed to do, she ended the workweek with a soak in her tub – the one appliance she rarely had time to enjoy – and instructed Jarvis to order in from her favourite restaurant. Once she and Bruce had had their fill, they parted ways, and she had spent the evening in bed with nothing to do except watch television in peace. Yes, she had gone to the bathroom a number of times in the process, and she would probably have to go at least twice more that morning with the tea she was brewing saturating her system. However, she had discovered early on that a tea before bed made her nausea _almost_ nonexistent the following morning, and she would take a four o'clock trip to the bathroom to pee over a seven o'clock trip to the bathroom to vomit.

Arms folded, she rocked back and forth on her heels as she watched the kettle, mind wandering over the plot twists and turns of her TV melodrama. When she heard the kettle click and the water bubbling inside, she reached for her mug, but then inhaled sharply when she felt a stabbing pain just below her stomach. It only lasted a moment, and Pepper leaned on the counter when it finally passed, breathing heavily as she hunched over. She brought a shaky hand to her abdomen and then let it inch lower; everything felt normal.

Tears pricked her eyes when the pain returned, and this time she crouched down on the floor, one hand still on the counter for support. The sensation lasted longer this time – like a horrible cramp that wouldn't let up – and she whimpered as she shut her eyes, trying to block it out. Her body felt normal on the outside, but she quickly knew something wasn't normal on the inside. Pains happened all the time – according to her pregnancy books – but this was excruciating. It came in waves, leaving her helpless in her hunched down state, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

When the barrage of agony finally stopped, Pepper realized she was sitting in a small pool – the seat of her grey pajama pants were soaked right through. It was mostly clear liquid, but across the white tile she could see a twinge of red.

"Miss Potts?"

Jarvis's voice rang out across the kitchen, and her eyes flickered toward the PA speaker near the door.

"Jarvis, please c-call a car," she ordered, wincing as she eased herself to her feet, "and see if Bruce is still awake."

"I have already alerted emergency services to your situation," the voice droned back. "Mr. Banner will be with you shortly."

"Thank you." She ran a hand through her hair, unsure of what she should do with herself. Change. Yes, she should get into clean pants.

"Shall I contact Mr. Stark?"

"No," she ordered briskly, shaking her head at the camera above the fridge. "No, I'm sure this is nothing."

"As you wish."

She stood next to her puddle, numb, until the pain started again. This time, however, she managed to get herself into a chair before the worst of it knocked her off her feet. Halfway through it, she heard footsteps thundering down the hallway, and a breathless Bruce Banner appeared in the doorway moments later. He was in a housecoat, his hair array and glasses somewhat crooked – she wondered if this had dragged him out of bed.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she managed through gritted teeth. He was at her side in an instant, crouched down in front of her with a pair of fingers on her wrist and the other hand holding her side. She clutched at his shirt, gripping and twisting it as she endured the rest of the horrible clenching in her lower abdomen. "I think my water broke."

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes scanning the floor until they reached the mess she had left, and she breathed steadily through her nose as the pain subsided again.

"Let's not jump to conclusions-"

"You're the doctor," she whispered. "Tell me what's wrong."

"At this stage, it could be anything," he insisted softly. He then took her by the arm and helped her to her feet. "Let's get to the hospital… Jarvis-"

"He called already," she muttered, leaning on her friend as he helped her across the kitchen. Every twinge made her flinch; there was no telling when the pain would start again. Her lower lip trembled as they left the kitchen. "It's too soon, Bruce."

"I know it's difficult," he told her as they hurried toward the elevator, "but try to stay calm. It will help if you don't panic."

She nodded. However, as Bruce pressed the down button, she broke out into tears, covering her face and sobbing into her hands.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Good gracious! So much happening! We're definitely getting somewhere now. I actually went online and read stories of women's miscarriages in order to get a more accurate portrayal for Pepper's incident, and the stories were heartbreaking. I don't know if I captured enough of it here, but this isn't the last we'll see of Pepper Potts! **

**Max's ridiculous love for jello actually comes from a former roommate of mine. I personally am not a huge fan of the stuff, but she used to make massive bowls of it and eat it for days like it was God's gift to the world. Bit ridiculous, but great stuff for fiction! But YOU GO LOKI. FOUR FOR YOU, GLEN COCO, YOU GO GLEN COCO for getting yo powers somewhat restored. Even if it's just his childhood magic, it's a start!  
**

**I'm pretty happy that I managed to get four updates for this story done this month! Quite exciting. I know we still have a week or so to go before June, but I'll be updating another Loki story in the meantime. But with the way things have been going, you can expect an update in two weeks or so. The next chapter – spoiler! – will be one to lift our spirits after some of the angst happening here. **

**I looove you all for your feedback! It's good to know some of my original reviewers/readers are still here, even if you just pop in occasionally to let me know! Makes me happy that you're sticking it out for the ride. UNTIL NEXT TIME, MY PRETTIES! **


	49. You're the pulse that I've always needed

Out of all the alcoholic beverages that he had been forced to drink with Max, Loki decided that he liked cider the best. Beer reminded him of a weaker form of Asgardian ale and the harsher Vodkas and Rums made him feel like absolute garbage the following morning. Cider, however, had a smooth aftertaste, and thus far hadn't left him inebriated beyond recognition. He wondered if he hadn't been as affected by alcohol lately because he had some of his former ability back: strength, magic, power. H didn't really have the desire to figure it out. What he did have a desire for – currently – was to yank Max off the stage before she really regretted her actions.

He leaned back against the countertop as the bartender rummaged through her machine for Loki's change: he had pulled the longest straw and was therefore required to buy the group their next pitcher. Most of them were expecting beer and would surely be disappointed when he returned with cider, but that was the risk they took when they put him in charge of their drinking experience. He smiled briefly when the barkeeper set his plastic pitcher of cider in front of him, and then turned his gaze back toward Max. She looked and sounded absolutely ridiculous, but at least she was having fun.

It was Saturday night, and although he would have preferred a night of rest, Max dragged him along to a karaoke night at a nearby bar with Ben's house and their girlfriends. It could have been worse – he could have hated them all. However, at this point in his stint on Earth, he had actually become somewhat fond of everyone aside from Ben and Erica, which meant these sorts of outings were tolerable, sometimes even fun. He didn't particularly think listening to horribly intoxicated people belt out popular songs to be "fun", but thus far it had been fairly entertaining.

It was a few days away from the month of March now, which meant there was a continued lull in school assignments. Loki had stopped trying to do well in his classes weeks ago, focusing more so on the renewal of his powers and his assignments with the Avengers (as much as that made him grind his teeth together), but it was Max who was finally getting out of a stressful state. She had finished the week by handing in three papers, all of which had kept her exceptionally busy and Loki exceptionally bored. He was proud to have a woman on his arm who cared so much about her academics, but it left him in a bit of a rut when she stopped paying attention to him.

Mercifully enough, his boredom ended when she returned home from classes the previous day in a remarkably improved mood, and Loki managed to persuade her to call in sick from work so that they could spend the rest of the evening in bed. It hadn't taken much cajoling to get her to agree to the idea, and they made up for their lack of togetherness by fucking until she simply couldn't anymore. He was able to keep her in his bed until noon, but she eventually shrugged him off in favour of getting a jumpstart on another assignment she had looming in the near future.

And then here they were—at a bar, drinking, and listening to terrible singers ruin famous tunes. Max and Corey had been dragged up to the small stage area by Erica, and were currently howling a somewhat drunken rendition of _Wings_ by some peppy British girl group. Corey, shockingly enough, sounded the best out of the trio, and Loki fully intended to tell his woman that she ought to keep her yowling confined to the shower.

Pitcher in hand, he worked his way through the crowded space, using his height to hold the sacred cider over all those who veered too close. The bar was crawling with college students, most of whom were drunk enough to actually enjoy Max's singing, and he wished he could have joined the group playing darts across the way—it was something he was actually quite good at. Instead, he managed to get back to the group's large semi-circular booth with his drink intact.

"Finally!" Garret waved him over as he approached. "Please tell me you haven't been missing this performance?"

Loki glanced over his shoulder at Max and then rolled his eyes. "It would be difficult to ignore, I'm afraid."

"What did you get?" Tiffany asked as he set the pitcher down in the middle of the round table. He then slid in next to Ben, who seemed quite entertained by the outrageous performance across the bar.

"Cider—"

"Ugh, you and your cider," the woman groaned. However, despite her protests, she still dragged the pitcher across the table and poured herself a glass; Loki smirked. He took a small sip once Tiffany passed him his refilled cup, and then relaxed against the plush leather backing of the booth. Out of all the establishments they had visited in Masonville, Loki decided he liked this bar the best: it was small, cheap, and generally pretty quiet—on days without karaoke, mind you.

A quick glance at Ben made Loki's eyes narrow: although the man seemed mesmerized by Erica's makeshift karaoke group, it was Max he was staring at. The man grinned when Max did a little jump, fumbling over her words as the other two carried on, and Loki resisted the urge to grasp him by the hair and slam his head down on the somewhat sticky table.

"She's quite good, isn't she?" Loki said when he leaned in closer, making Ben flinch. The man swallowed, the large bump in his throat bobbing noticeably, and then feigned a confused expression.

"What?"

"Erica," he continued, nodding toward the man's lady with an arched eyebrow. "She has a better voice than I expected."

"Oh, right," the man said with a nod. "Yeah, she's always full of surprises."

"Hmm."

Loki wasn't sure what Ben's angle had been lately. After all, his truce with Max still stood strong –neither spoke about the other's relationship as far as Loki was aware – and now that there was peace between Erica and Max, it seemed he could carry on with his woman without any interruptions. And yet, this wasn't the first time he had caught Ben staring at Max when the man thought no one was looking. Although he had no reason to feel envy, Loki did. Her feelings for that ridiculous wisp of a man were strong, despite the drama, and he disliked the idea of her favouring him.

Well, that and the fact that Ben clearly knew something about Loki's true self, and _he_ wanted to be the one to break the news to Max when the time was right. If Ben took that opportunity away from him, there would be serious repercussions.

When Max and company's horrible rendition of _Wings_ finally came to an end, Loki eased out of the booth to allow Erica to sit next to her man—he preferred Max and Ben to have as many human barriers as possible.

"That was awful," he told Max was they settled into the booth, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. She poked her tongue out at him and then gave a nervous laugh, her voice somewhat breathy.

"Fuck you. I was awesome."

"Oh, darling, not even close to that," he insisted with a chuckle. He planted a quick kiss on her cheek, which she leaned into, and then busied himself with her drink.

"Don't lie," she ordered when he set a full glass down in front of her. "You're just jealous that you don't have a set of pipes like me."

"Hardly." He placed a kiss to her temple as she smiled; some days it was difficult _not_ to be affectionate with this ridiculous woman, especially when she wore dark blues.

"Alright, are you ready for an actual performance?" Garret asked as he scooted his way out of the booth.

"Please don't do a Phillip Phillips song," Tiffany said, her arms folded as she watched the man straighten his shirt out. "It's so boring to listen to the same songs—"

Then, out of nowhere, the man kissed her, a hand cupping her cheek as she flailed a little. Max chuckled at Loki's side.

"No matter what Garret sings, it's going to sound better than us," she insisted once the man toddled off toward the stage.

"Ha!" Loki tugged at the ends of her hair playfully at the omission, and she tried to swat him away. "So you admit that you were awful?"

"Hey, we were a step above awful," Corey interjected. "I think we were a step above the apple juice you brought back from the bar."

"That's what you get when you put Loki in charge of our drinks," Max giggled, placing a hand on his chest and smirking. "He drops the ball and gets piss—"

"It is much better than you make it out to be," he grumbled, his eyes narrowing again on the duo.

"I like it!" It was Erica who came to his defense, and he offered her a thankful nod. Max rolled her eyes, though the gesture was hardly as hateful as it might have been before she and Erica had made peace.

"Regardless, Garret's rendition of whatever won't be as harsh on your pretty little ears," Max cooed at him, which made Loki scoff. She wasn't especially drunk at this point, but she had enough alcohol in her to make her tongue a little looser.

"And why is that?"

"Garret's in the music program," she said with a laugh. Loki's eyes drifted toward the stage and he spied Garret speaking to the fellow who managed to actual karaoke machine. "By definition, he needs to be at least above mediocre."

"Ah."

He retracted his arm from her shoulders when he thought he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. However, when he unlocked the screen, there were no new messages or calls, and he tucked it away shortly thereafter. He hadn't heard from any of the Avengers in a few days, which was a rarity. Although he wasn't as focused on his tasks now that he had discovered the Thailand bodies, Stark still saw fit to monitor his activities and check in almost daily. However, it had been quiet for several days and nights, and Loki was grateful: let the heroes of this realm manage their mess alone. Loki had his own set of challenges to overcome, and while he was less unwilling to be of assistance now, he preferred to stay out of Avengers debacles.

"Hi everyone, hello…"

Loki frowned as he faced the stage: rather than singing, Garret was speaking. Now, he wasn't especially familiar with the strange phenomenon, but he knew that karaoke at its very core involved singing.

"I know you're all here for karaoke…" The man wiped his forehead, seemingly hot beneath the bright glare of the stage light. "Well, that and two-dollar pitchers of Heineken—"

That managed to bring about a few cheers from a table of men near the back exit, and Garret used the thick black microphone to toast them.

"I know, right? Sweet deal here for a Saturday night," he continued.

"What is he doing?" Loki asked softly, speaking in hushed tones in Max's ear. The woman shrugged, eyes fixated on her friend.

"I don't know."

"Uhm, I'm not really the guy to do this sort of thing," Garret said, "but I wanted to take a minute to point out this amazing woman back there… Her name is Tiffany, and I've somehow had enough dumb luck to keep her for the last six years." Loki glanced at the woman, who—even in the darkness—seemed to have gone a little pink around the cheeks. "We had our anniversary last week, and we did what we always do… Movie and dinner. She's… Guys, she's amazing."

"Oh my god, shut up," Tiffany croaked as heads started to swivel back to look at her.

"I talked to my mom that day, and she kept asking me why I haven't married her yet." There was a crack in the man's voice when he spoke, and Loki watched his hand drift down to his pocket. "And honestly, I didn't have an answer. She told me that I'm never going to find a woman like her, and she's right. I'm never going to love anyone as much as I love her, and I'm never going to find someone who puts up with all my bullshit like she does."

"Holy shit… He's proposing," Max muttered, her hands over her mouth. Most of the bar had fallen silent, aside from the trio of girls playing pool at the back, clearly too drunk to notice what was happening.

"I know we laugh about stuff like this," Garret said as he pulled something out of his pocket. "We said we would never do something public, because these things end up on Youtube and people laugh about the guy being a nervous wreck, but… here we are, and I couldn't let it go on for another day. I can't keep going without you."

He turned and handed the microphone to the man slightly offstage, and then hopped down. He wove his way around the few tables that stood between their booth and the stage, and when Loki looked at Tiffany, he saw the woman was crying—smiling like a simpleton, but crying all the same. The group seemed to hold their breath as Garret dropped down to one knee in front of her, presenting a small ring with a hopeful expression on his face.

"I know you're embarrassed," he told her, "but I don't care. I couldn't wait… I just… I couldn't anymore."

"I know," she said shakily.

"Tiffany Elliston," Garret began, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. "Will you marry me?"

The bar erupted in such a thunderous ruckus when the woman nodded her head that Loki thought there was a brawl taking place. People banged their fists on tables, shouting and whooping as Garret slid the ring on his lady's finger and dragged her into an embrace. Max was on her feet shortly after, and Loki was almost pushed out of the booth as Erica and Ben hurdled by him in order to get at their friends. The bar itself seemed to settle after a moment or so, but Loki watched his companions hug one another with such love and affection that he was forced to look away.

When Garret was no longer being mauled by his roommates, Loki extended his hand to him, which the man grasped.

"Congratulations," he said earnestly. "It seems this is how it was always supposed to be."

"Thanks, man."

And he meant it. He had seen marriage arrangements announced between couples whose families saw fit to do the matchmaking, and he had heard about marriages founded by love alone. However, growing up in a royal court, Loki rarely saw the latter, and it was strangely touching to witness it firsthand.

"Can we please have something better to drink to celebrate?" Tiffany demanded, her voice high and shaky. Loki almost rolled his eyes: even amidst the excitement, someone had found a way to insult his choice of drink.

"Yes, yes, Loki and I will correct his mistake," Max insisted, taking him by the hand and tugging him away from the table. When they were in an area with enough space, she did a little twirl in front of him, using his hand as an anchor to spin from. When she looked up at him, her smile was infectious. "This is so exciting!"

"Yes, I'm very happy for them," Loki admitted, pulling her to the side slightly so that she wouldn't knock into another bar patron. "I have never seen a man propose marriage like that…"

"I don't really think he had a plan." She laughed at the thought, her fingers intertwined with his, and led him toward the bar. "What should we get?"

"Whatever everyone would like," Loki droned, which earned him a look. He made himself comfortable on a barstool, feet able to rest on the floor, and drummed his fingers on the countertop. "Get whatever you'd like."

He then reached into his back pocket and set his wallet in front of her, which she took and held close to her chest, eyes scanning the beer list and teeth nibbling on her lower lip. Some days, this woman was a goddess. He never would have associated a human with such a status before, but occasionally he slipped and let his mind think it. No one else, mind you, had such an honour, and when Max learned the truth, she would be undoubtedly flattered at just how high he held her above the rest.

"I wonder when they're going to do the wedding?" she mused after placing her order and setting a ten dollar bill on the counter. She then stood between his legs, a hand resting on each knee, and leaned in for a quick kiss. "Be my date when they do?"

"Of course." He trailed his knuckles over a wave in her hair, and then studied her when she turned back to sort out the change left by the bartender.

All of these people had such bland lives, and yet they found immense joy in such simple things. Here they were, two people at their happiest, and Loki realized their wedding would have no influence on the outcome of this world. The grandiose wedding of Garret and Tiffany would not be recorded in any history books, nor would people around the realm speak of it. It was simply an engagement. It was two people in love—spectacularly in love. They would eventually join their lives, have children, and carry on into this world together.

It was so simple, and yet it seemed that tonight everything had changed for them. He had had lifetimes more experience than these people, and yet when had he ever had a moment so profound? What had he accomplished after traveling the universe and leading an army? After sitting on Asgard's throne? Nothing. There was nothing in his life right now that would make him feel the way Garret and Tiffany felt in that very moment.

"Do you want to get married?" he asked when Max turned back to him. Her eyebrows shot up and she grinned, giving his chest a poke.

"Are you asking me? Two proposals in one night?" His jaw dropped a little, and he hastily licked his lips. Max, however, cut him off before he could babble through his moment of panic. "Relax, I'm kidding."

"Right."

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "I want to get married… I want the marriage and the two-point-five kids and a nice career on top."

"You want children?"

"Why not?" She tucked her hair over her shoulder and shrugged. "I mean, I don't really like other people's kids that much, but I've heard when you have your own, they're tolerable."

He gawked at her, momentarily thrown by her opinion on children, but when she laughed he realized she was poking fun at him again. There were moments in their relationship in which he felt Max was a giant child herself, and it shouldn't surprise him in the slightest that she might want children someday.

"You're exquisite," he muttered when she leaned in for another peck. He held her there, a hand in her hair, and she tilted her head to the side to deepen the kiss. When he felt the tips of her fingers dance along his jawline, he loosened his grip on her, remembering where they were and why they were there.

"Yeah," she said with a snort, rolling her eyes a little, "I'm every guy's dream girl."

He said nothing about her sarcasm, and instead reached around her to take the pitcher from the barkeeper before she could.

"After this drink, let's go home," he told her, leaning down to meet her stare. "I'd like to go home."

"Would you?" she asked as she sauntered slowly back toward the table, her arm wrapped around his waist. "I mean… _home_ home."

He caught her meaning without any further explanation, though perhaps Max didn't truly know what she meant by asking that question. However, without missing a beat, Loki nodded.

"I'd like to go home." To a place that he could actually call home—whether it be Asgard or another realm of his choosing. "But I don't want to go alone."

"Well, no one wants to go _alone_," she said, pinching his side softly. "You don't ever have to be alone if you don't want to."

He stopped them sharply enough that the beer jostled dangerously in the pitcher. "I don't want to do it alone… Not anymore." He couldn't.

Max's forehead crinkled when she frowned slightly, and she pushed herself up on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I know."

"Oh my god, come _on_," Tiffany bellowed from the table, spoiling whatever moment they were sharing. "Let's get some alcohol over here!"

"Is he driving you to drink already?" Max asked, a finger crooked through Loki's belt loop as she dragged him back toward the table. "Not a good sign, Garret."

"I'm surprised she hasn't started sooner, to be honest," the man laughed. Loki set the pitcher down and took up his previous seat, watching his woman as she filled seven plastic cups with whatever she had ordered.

"I'd like to make a toast then," Max said, raising her cup and grinning at the happy couple. "To Garret and Tiff, and to love… and to an open bar at the wedding!"

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**So this chapter was originally going to end differently – I had plans for Loki and Max to get it on outside the bar after having feels and whatnot, but as I was writing it, a sex scene felt really forced and out of place. And seeing as I'm not one to write a sex scene for absolutely zero purpose at all (I will write them for relationship advancement and plot movement, obviously), I opted out of writing it. I dunno. Maybe it would have worked. Maybe not. But as I was going, it just didn't feel like that's what was happening with this chapter. Plus, when I originally planned this chapter weeks ago, I felt a bit like it was out of character for Max to screw someone out back behind a bar. So. Here we are – you are privy to my internal editor. **

**Some of you have expressed your love for Garret and Tiffany, and I figured you should see how hard I ship them. Is it sad to fangirl your own characters? Anyway. I got all misty-eyed writing the proposal – probably because I was listening to sappy music and thinking of my Gar-Tiff feels and their future. **

**Guyz. Eight chapters left. I mean, eight chapters and then a sequel that currently seems equally long if not longer, plus another sequel. So. It's coming to an end, but then picking right the fuck back up! I'm excited. For those of you who like spoilery things – I have one more chapter (though, maybe two, now that I think about it) that seems like filler/fluff/whatever, and then stuff starts getting down to business. Biz-ness. **

**Anyway. So much love for all the kind reviews and thoughtful messages and silent lurking! They really help me motivate myself when I know you guys are out there! LOVE. **


	50. Growing Intensity

"Are you sure there won't be any permanent damage?"

"Relax," Max chuckled as she slammed her car door shut and wedged her key in the lock. "I've never met anyone whose bruises lasted more than a few days. We get protective gear and everything."

Loki frowned when she quirked an eyebrow at him, but followed her toward the indoor paintball arena with a resigned sigh.

It had actually taken more persuasion than usual for Loki to accept her request for a game of paintball. The bookstore staff partnered with other departments around campus on the first Sunday of every March to play a vicious tournament at the indoor arena two towns over, and Max wasn't about to miss out on it this year just because she had a massive paper due. No, school obligations could wait: paintball was serious business. Loki seemed more interested in lounging around the apartment all day, and she wasn't about to let that happen.

She wasn't sure what had changed, but lately Loki rarely seemed to be doing anything—_anything_. Sure, he watched TV, helped her with dishes, and attended drunken outings with her friends, but otherwise she wasn't sure what he did all day. Max knew for a fact that he had stopped doing his class assignments altogether—Ben hadn't received a history assignment from him in almost three weeks—and he rarely joined her for study sessions anymore. If he did, he was on his laptop, not a book in sight, and always seemed to finish roughly around the same time she did. She wasn't about to mother him, but if she didn't see a change by the end of the month, Max planned to bring up the subject as nicely as possible.

He wasn't a lazy guy. He didn't seem like the type to flake out on something because he didn't _feel_ like working on it anymore. He was intelligent, resourceful, and determined—she had seen him be all of those traits at one point or another during the year. Therefore, all things considered, Max hadn't the slightest idea what had gotten into him lately. It seemed that he had taken all his energy out of his school work and thrust it into their relationship, and while she was thrilled to have a man who actually _cared_, she didn't have the luxury of abandoning her academics.

So, when Loki was bored and procrastinating on whatever assignment he planned not to do, he would harass her for attention. She wasn't completely oblivious; she knew he came to her because he had run out of things to scroll through online. Well, that and they were having great sex lately. However, she couldn't be someone's distraction because she didn't have the time to be distracted. The end of the year inched closer with each passing week, and she had finals to prepare for, assignments to grade, and papers of her own to chew out and edit like a maniac before term came to a close. Yes, she had another year of her graduate program to go, but every single year counted, and she felt like she had been slacking earlier in the semester.

So, her relationship was great. Loki was great—amazing. Sometimes she wished, however, that she could sneak off to the library and spend the day there without wondering when her boyfriend would stroll up with plans. Despite everything, she wasn't about to complain. If Loki's attentiveness and need to be kept busy by her were the only two downsides of living with a boyfriend this early in the relationship, Max would take it. Besides, while he might have been a bit of a pest sometimes, he wasn't following her around anymore… That was a bonus, was it not?

Still, she sometimes felt like Loki was the least of her concerns. With her mom's health stable, but still relatively poor, she turned her attention to Nolan. He had sent the family an email two days ago explaining that he had picked up another infection in the hospital, and instead of being moved to an outpatient care facility, he would be stuck in there for another two weeks. Every time she thought about her brother's condition, she cringed: he must have hated his life in there. Nolan wasn't the most active of guys, but he certainly didn't like being caged in one place for too long, and every time they had a video-chat, her brother expressed his concerns that they may discharge him from the army completely. While she had always wished Nolan had chosen a safer profession, she knew he loved his job, and Max didn't want him to lose it over a little infection.

Her plate was full: school, Loki, and family seemed to take up the entire pie graph, never mind her social life and work. Somehow, she seemed to keep everything balanced, and she suspected she had Loki to thank for keeping her sane when she was bogged down at home. If she had to go through this year alone or with someone like her previous few roommates, she probably would have had a mental breakdown by now.

She shot her man an appreciative smile as he held the glass door open for her, and then took his cool hand with both of hers once he was inside. The paintball arena hadn't changed in years; there was an indoor and outdoor field, and both were open to use depending on the season. In the main foyer, the walls were covered in horrible military camouflage print, and there was a beat-up jeep for kids to climb on and take pictures in near the reception desk. Off to the left were the locker rooms and to the right the hallway toward the indoor field. It was busier than she usually saw it, but she assumed it was because more faculties and service departments signed up for teams this year.

"Are those the people who work at the McDonald's booth?" Loki inquired as he nodded toward a quartet of elderly women clustered around the jeep. Max grinned.

"Yeah, they usually team up with the janitors from the science building," she explained, scanning the crowd for the group of rowdy thirty-somethings who—for some reason—always grouped up with the older workers. "They're pretty stiff competition."

"Not this year!" It was Melissa who interrupted, gliding in between the pair, her arms folded across her chest. "They're dividing us all up this year… Apparently people were complaining we have an unfair advantage."

Loki rolled his eyes when Max glanced up at him. "Hardly."

"Easy, Captain Ego," she scoffed. "Melissa was talking about me."

"Oh?" His eyebrows shot up as he observed her down the tip of his nose. "Really?"

"You don't know this about me, but I'm fucking baller at paintball," she insisted, hands on her hips. "Like… I could be pro."

"Right."

"I'm awesome—"

"Awesome like your singing?"

Max pursed her lips at him, and then shrugged, unwilling to give her strategy away. After all, if they were going to be split up, she had a sinking suspicion that Melissa had arranged for Loki to be on any team besides hers.

"Melissa," Loki greeted, turning his attention away from Max and smiling down at the portly woman at her side. "It's nice to see you again."

"Yeah, it's been a while," her boss mused as she gave Loki a once-over. "I was starting to wonder if you actually worked for me anymore."

"It's been a… terribly busy month," he told her with a forced smile, one that made Max smirk. "I'm so sorry if I've caused you any trouble."

Both Melissa and Max slowly looked down at the hand Loki had placed on the woman's arms, and her normally uptight supervisor gave a flustered laugh. "Oh, no, it's no trouble at all."

"Okay," Max said with a sigh. She shrugged off her coat and stuffed it into Loki's arms. "Why don't you go check our coats in at the reception? I forgot a lock."

"Do you anticipate someone stealing this thing?" Loki inquired as he folded the garment over his arm. "There's a ketchup stain on the back—"

"What?" Max lunged forward, mortified that she hadn't noticed it before. Sure enough, there was a dark red smattering of ketchup on the bottom, as if she had sat on a ketchup packet at some point. "Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"I thought it was some absurd fashion thing," he told her, though he had a difficult time keeping a straight face when she glared up at him. "I'll return shortly."

"But not too shortly," she snapped at his retreating form. He strode confidently through the crowd, pausing momentarily when one of the new cashiers greeted him.

"You guys are cute," Melissa said. Max quickly looked back at the woman when she realized she was staring creepily at Loki from across the noisy hall, and she nodded.

"Thanks… We try."

"I'm serious about his work ethic though," the woman admitted softly, leaning in with her usual furrowed brow. "If he doesn't work a shift soon, it'll just be easier to not have him on the payroll… and I hate firing people, but—"

"I'll talk to him," she sighed. "I'm not really sure what's gotten into him lately, but he's been kind of distracted."

Lie. However, she wasn't about to let her both stand there and judge her for dating a guy who slacked on both his school work and his job.

"Well, he's got another week to figure himself out," the woman told her, "and then I'll have to say something."

"Right, thanks."

Max watched the woman fiddle with her St. Judith's sweater, and then resisted the urge to roll her eyes. While Melissa may have acted tough in front of Max, she had serious doubts that the woman would actually fire Loki. Although it was well-known that Max and Loki were dating, her boss was still pretty sweet on the guy and tended to turn into a puddle of mush whenever he spoke to her. So, while she threatened a week, Max knew Loki probably had two months—at the very least—to realize that he needed to do at least a shift a week.

"Hello St. Judith's support staff!" The voice boomed out a megaphone at the front of the foyer, and Max winced when the machine emitted a high-pitch squeal. She spotted the holder of said device standing on the reception desk, dressed to the nines in his paintball jumpsuit and tousled grey hair. "Are we ready for some paintball?!"

Max joined in with the cheers, and then snorted noisily when she spotted a thoroughly unimpressed Loki stuck in the middle of the crowd, a disgusted look on his face.

Honestly, he was such a snob sometimes.

"My name is Joe," the man with the megaphone started.

"Hello, Joe," came a chorus of veteran players, Max included.

"And I'll be your paintball coordinator for the day," he continued, sounding positively giddy at the idea. Max had played roughly four games with the bookstore staff at this point, and it was either Joe or his wife Martha who led the day; the elderly owners of the arena always tried to make it a theatrical occasion. "We've done things a little differently this year… We've divided you all up into four teams. There's a roster posted before you go into the arena. We'll play two teams, and winners will play for the title of champions."

Max grinned, her limbs itching to get into a jumpsuit. Although her coworkers had only played with her a handful of times, paintball was a regular affair for her when she was younger. Nolan had every single birthday party until he was nineteen at the local paintball center, and Max was even fleetingly invited to play on his recreational team when they were in high school. A part of her wondered if her academic fascination with weapons came from a childhood surrounded by her paintballing brother and her World War Two obsessive father.

No matter. She was ready to win; this place was one of the few that she actually let herself be competitive, and she liked to come out on top. Football games? Whatever. Drinking matches? She'd like to win, but she usually didn't. Paintball, on the other hand, was something she was good at.

"I still don't quite understand what we're supposed to be doing," Loki complained once the speeches had come to an end. It was the same spiel as always: no shooting when helmets were off, always wear your protective jumpsuit, arm up when you've been shot, and cease fire when the siren sounds. She glanced up at him, unaware that he had worked his way out of the crowd, and then looped her arm around his.

"It's really easy," she reassured him as they followed Melissa toward the massive whiteboard by the entrance to the indoor arena. "Shoot the other team… Be the last man standing otherwise."

"Right."

"I think you're overthinking it," she said. Max peered up and over Melissa to scan the lists of names to find hers: team four. Loki, on the other hand, was on team one. "We aren't together."

He seemed thoroughly blasé at the realization. "I don't think I want to play if I'm not on your team."

"This is _war_, soldier," Max teased, pinching his side hard enough to make him squirm. "You can't abandon your team!"

Melissa seemed equally put-out that she was on the third team, and waved a half-hearted farewell as she joined the throngs of people making their way into the nearby hallway.

"Max—"

"Besides, it looks good that you're participating in something work-related," she said quickly before he could worm his way out of it. "I mean, you don't really do much else anymore at work… You know that, right?"

"I'm aware of my attendance, yes."

She sucked in her cheeks, catching the sarcastic comment before it slipped out. "Okay."

He sighed, taking her hand in his, and then pulled her toward the nearby doors. The hall was smaller than she remembered, but perhaps it was because there were at least fifty people squished into it. At the end of the corridor sat a little kiosk, at which players were given their uniform and gun. Beyond it, there was a waiting space to get dressed in, and Max and Loki eventually found themselves forced to separate into their teams at opposite sides of the room.

Max greeted her new comrades with a warm smile, knowing most of them by face and a few by name. The only weakness was one of the McDonald's ladies, but otherwise it seemed like she had a pretty solid crew to fall back on.

"Alright, folks," Joe announced as Max wiggled into her dark green jumpsuit, her gun and ammunition resting against a nearby bench. The elderly man found a chair to stand on, the megaphone back in hand. He could have just talked noisily; it was starting to hurt her ears to listen to him shout into the thing. "We'll be playing teams one and four first… Two and three can head up to the observation deck in the meantime."

An excited energy pulsed through her limbs as she hastily zipped up her jumpsuit, and then set about loading her gun with colourful paintballs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loki sitting on a bench across the room doing the same, nodding as a man from the library night staff murmured something in his ear—tactics already?

"Okay, so," a gruff woman from the janitorial crew started, her gun resting over her shoulder. "Get the towers if you can… They'll try to do the same, but we got to beat them." Max nodded along with the rest of them: towers were key. "Is anyone really good with accuracy?"

"I am," Max offered. "If I can get to a tower, I can usually pick people off when I see them."

"It's you and me and a tower for the next half hour, baby," the woman told her, which made Max laugh. "The rest of you try to just get rid of them, or stay out of the way. Today belongs to team three."

"We're team four," the McDonald's woman muttered, which also made her chuckle.

"Alright folks," Joe bellowed. "Moving on out… You'll have five minutes to find a position in the field, and then you can start shooting when you hear the buzzer."

Max rolled her eyes: there were less than twenty-five people in the space and he _still_ used the megaphone. Gun in hand, she followed her crew toward the artistically battered metal doors, and then shot Loki a narrowed look when he sauntered up to her side.

"I've just been strategizing with my team," he told her haughtily. "I think it's best if you find a safe place to hide until the fighting ceases."

"Says the guy who has never played a round of paintball in his life," Max droned, rolling her eyes. "I think I'll be fine."

"Oh, darling, I've seen more battle than you can possibly imagine," he whispered in her ear. "You're going to lose."

Eyes still narrowed, Max dropped her gun to her side as they stepped through the doors, and then shot him in the foot.

"Max!"

"Hey, no shooting until the buzzer starts!" Joe shouted from somewhere behind her. Max held up her hands innocently when she spotted the old man charging inward.

"Oh my god, my finger slipped," she cried as Loki fretted over his paint-splattered shoe. "I'm so sorry!"

"Next person who slips is sitting out," he warned, staring everyone down before disappearing back behind the metal doors.

"You did that on purpose," Loki hissed when she fluttered her eyelashes at him. She shrugged, and then dragged her helmet on.

"All's fair in love and war, _darling_," Max cooed. "See you on the other side."

She nudged his arm before darting off to join the rest of her team, most of whom had already booked it to the far corner of the arena. Over the years, the indoor arena itself had undergone a series of changes. In the first few years, it was nothing more than a few plastic tunnels and plush bags to hide behind. However, the owners must have realized there was profit to be made during the winter months, and one year she and Nolan played a round in the new arena, which looked like a massive McDonald's play-place. From there, it only got better. The final product, which Max jogged through today, looked very similar to the outdoor arena: wooden towers, tunnels, plastic cut-outs and balls, a singular underground burrow, and fake palm trees. It had recently been painted to match the military camouflage wallpaper in the foyer, though much of the wood remained in its original state.

Each team had five minutes to find and hold a position, and when Max caught up to her group, she found herself swept into a debate about who ought to take one of the wooden towers in the far corner. Naturally, because she said she was good up high, heads turned back to her.

"I don't want that tower," she said quietly. "I mean, towers are good, but I want to get that middle one… _That's_ the crème de la crème of towers."

It was a large circular tower in the dead center of the field. Surrounded by barricades and plastic tubing, it was probably the best spot in the place to play the sniper, but its walls were full of holes. So, while it was a good position to hold, it was also a risk if the other team had accurate shooters. However, it was a risk Max was willing to take: Nolan _always_ beat her to the center tower, and she was keen on getting there first this year.

"I like that plan," the burly janitorial woman said with a nod. "We'll take the tower." She then turned back to the remaining members of her team, who seemed marginally unimpressed that someone was telling them what to do. "You guys take the south wall and come at them from behind. Understand?"

Max hid her smile at the irritated grunts and murmurs of acknowledgement, and then glanced up toward the observation deck at the top of the far right wall. She liked that the ceiling was just a giant window, because the game felt more realistic with natural light, but she thoroughly disliked that the other teams had an opportunity to watch their strategies from some room two floors up.

All thoughts of prying eyes disappeared when she heard the buzzer shriek out of the nearby speakers, and she dropped low with the janitorial woman at her side.

"My name's Max, by the way," she whispered as they darted behind a small boulder.

"Claire."

"Nice to meet you."

"Same."

Her eyes flickered in the direction of the first shots of the game, which were followed by some shouting, and she and Claire took the opportunity to race to the next boulder. Ten feet closer to the tower—another forty to go.

"Wait," she murmured, planting a hand on Claire's forearm when she spied a pair from the other team racing across an open area nearby. Gun up, Max followed them, one eye closed, and fired off six shots in rapid succession. Three of those managed to hit the duo—two to the first runner and one to the second—and both players held their guns up in surrender shortly after her paint made contact.

"Good shot," Claire praised. Max nodded as she watched the pair march solemnly toward the exit.

"Thanks… Let's go."

They hurried forward, pausing here and there when they heard voices or shots. Over the next ten minutes, Claire took out two more players, and Max managed to nail someone's ankle as they tried to make a desperate crawl into a tunnel. However, it was when the tower was directly in sight, a mere thirty second jog away, that they were forced to separate. The barrage of paintballs came so suddenly and so fiercely that Max peeled off and crouched down behind a cut-out of a jeep, hiding herself behind the tires with her hands over her head.

When the splatter of paint finally ceased, she hesitantly looked up and saw Claire across the way in the mouth of a large tunnel, gun peering around the edge. Squaring her shoulders, Max managed to poke her head out just enough to see the players responsible for the recent assault: Loki (with his height and tuft of black hair poking out from beneath his helmet) and another man camped on the right side of the tower. They seemed to have the same plan in mind, and when Loki's companion made a run for the tower's wooden ladder, Max stood up and fired slightly ahead of him, forcing the man to retreat.

However, she had to throw herself onto the ground when Loki retaliated, his paintballs splattering noisily along the wooden shelter. She had to scrabble behind the other wheel cut-out when some of his paintballs managed to get into a few openings: he was good. Better than good, actually—he had accuracy. She stilled when she recalled his words before the match: _I've seen more battle than you can possibly imagine_. Had he been serious? Max blinked a few times, trying to shake the thought, and then focused her attention on Claire's frantic waving.

The woman pointed to herself, then made a fist and covered it with her hand. She then pointed at Max and then thumbed the tower. _I'll cover you_. Max nodded and crept forward, peering around the edge of her hiding spot just in time to force Loki back to his with a few carefully aimed paintballs. Claire then counted down from three, and when the numbers cleared, both women shot off toward the tower. Max gave an involuntary squeal when a wall of paintballs flew their way, but as Claire promised, she covered her until the gritty end.

Once she was close enough, Max threw her gun up into the tower and then leapt onto the ladder, scurrying up and into safety. Luckily enough, there was no one else lurking in the circular upper-level, and Max was able to recover her weapon and fire a few shots in Loki's direction. Unfortunately, she lost her wing-woman when she spotted Claire marching away from the tower with her gun raised. She wasn't sure how many other players had been taken out over the course of the last twenty-five minutes, but she had to assume that numbers were dwindling on both sides.

The tower that she found herself in was essentially a large balcony, with walls the only came up to her waist when standing and a conical roof that served no purpose at all. When she peered through one of the holes in the wall, she had to duck out of the way to avoid Loki's barrage of paintballs, but she had managed to see that his friend was heading around to the opposite side of the tower. Max was quicker: she was able to pick the man off just before he hopped behind a barrier, and he stalked away with his gun raised after cursing noisily.

Pleased, Max crept across the creaking circular structure, and then frowned when she saw Loki had moved. Finger on the trigger, she inched from hole to hole, eyes narrowed as she tried to detect any brief flicker of movement amongst the structures around her tower. However, all seemed quiet until she heard a few more shots from somewhere in the distance. It was in that brief distraction that Max heard the ladder groan behind her, and without thinking, she turned back and fired, nailing Loki three times in the helmet before she stopped.

"This hurts _far_ more than you led me to believe," he snapped, running a hand through the paint as Max grinned at him.

"My poor _baby_," she cooed, falling to her knees to her knees once she was directly in front of him. "Maybe you could go put some ice on it while you wait on the loser's bench for me..."

"This isn't over," he hissed, and his glare softened only slightly when she blew him a kiss. "I'll have my vengeance."

"I think you're all talk and hot air, tough guy," she teased as she pushed him away by the helmet. "Don't forget to hold your gun up on your walk of shame back there… Don't want any more bruises."

"You're insufferable—"

"And you love it."

He opened and closed his mouth several times, and then smirked at her flushed cheeks. "I suppose I do… sometimes."

"Don't be a sore loser," she continued, hoping to brush away her accidental 'love' drop by being childishly competitive. "Go away… You're letting everyone know where I am."

He gave her a hard stare before jumping down off the ladder. She watched him saunter across the arena with his gun up, and then forced herself to focus on the game again—she could have sworn she heard voices on the other side of the tower.

* * *

Max inhaled sharply as Loki shoved her up against the bathroom door, his lips on her neck and his hands _everywhere_. She wasn't sure what had come over him, but once the paintball game came to an end, she couldn't keep his hands away; they lingered on her back, traveling southward, or rubbed her shoulders and curved around her neck. At the time, she hadn't paid much attention to it, but when she finally turned away from Team Four's victory celebrations, she realized that he needed to go home—_now. _There was a look in his eye, a richness to his voice, and Max quickly found it difficult to concentrate on anything but him.

Hell, she was barely able to focus on the drive back with him sitting beside her, the pair buried in a tense silence—a silence that hadn't come from anger. She had never, ever experienced anything like it before. In the past, guys had told her they wanted to go home and have sex; she'd laugh and he'd laugh and they'd go home with red faces before going to bed. This time, no one had said a single thing, and yet she knew precisely what he wanted. Desire. She had never actually known true desire, or what it felt like to be completely wanted, until that moment.

She had trembled with the key at the door, despite the fact he hadn't touched her, and it wasn't until they were inside and had shrugged off their coats that Loki pounced. Not that she had doubted his intentions, but even if she had, his kiss left nothing to chance: heated, demanding, persistent. He had backed her down the hallway, passed the couches and kitchen island and bedroom doors, until she found herself there, flush against the bathroom door with a firm body bearing down on her.

He wasted no time; with his lips nipping at the sensitive skin of her neck, each graze of teeth making her squirm, his fingers tackled her jeans and pushed them down her thighs. Her skin prickled at the touch, and she fisted her hand in his hair to yank him up for another kiss. It was almost clumsy the way their lips met, as if it had been years since they shared a proper kiss, and she groaned, tilting her head back and breathing shakily, when he pushed a pair of his long digits into her. They brought immediate pleasure, a sensation that could be felt right up to her abdomen, which clenched under his tactful wanderings.

And then, as quickly as he had started, Loki pulled away, and Max released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Licking her lips, she went for his jeans, keen to return the pleasurable favour, but he batted her hands away briskly with his, opting to handle his trousers personally. Max glanced down and pushed her jeans to the floor, kicking them off with her underwear into a pile in the corner. When she looked back to him, she saw him studying her so intensely that it made her stomach knot again, and she raised a shaky pair of fingers to his lips, tentatively touching the lower one. Before she could lean up to kiss him, he grasped the hem of her sweater and hauled it upward, dragging it roughly from her body and tossing it aside. Her bra came next, ripped away as he wore the most curious expression on his features, as though the clothing bothered him.

She watched him peel the remainder of his clothing off, throwing it to the floor with the same expression, though she was quickly distracted by the infinitely toned body that lurked beneath. He barely went to the gym anymore, and yet there he was, muscular and solid and defined, and she wondered how she had lucked into finding a guy who looked like a Greek god.

Max flinched when a hand grasped the underside of her knee, hoisting her leg up as he moved inward. She braced herself on his shoulders, and then wrapped an arm around his neck as he rammed himself upward. Eyes clenched shut, she couldn't keep the cry in when his sharp hipbones slammed against her; he forced that cry out of her over and over again, taking her in silence. She whispered his name, and he returned her needy kiss with such ferocity that it almost hurt. In fact, if she removed herself from the moment, there were a lot of things that hurt: he took her harshly, pounding against her so that door behind her started to make her shoulders and back ache.

But the pain was easy to ignore. In fact, every single thing in her life was easy to ignore when his eyes flickered up to her, heavy-lidded and filled with the same desire he had shown for the last hour. The shift in angles when he wrapped her legs around his waist, holding her up with ease, was almost too much, and Max bit down on her lip when an unexpected wave of pleasure shook her. His lips coaxed hers from between her teeth, and she dragged him impossibly close as he ground against her, forcing her against the door—almost to the point where she felt suffocated.

She didn't care. He could take and give and suffocate all he wanted. Loki finished shortly after, a hand tangled tightly in her hair and his lips against her cheek, his breath heated and uneven. They stayed like that for a moment or so, holding one another in that position, until Max's legs gave a noticeable quiver and Loki finally set her down. However, they stayed together even then, their foreheads resting against one another. Max gazed up at him affectionately, while Loki's eyes remained shut, his breathing shaky. She finally caught his attention again with a soft kiss, stealing it away before he could react, and he smiled down at her when their gaze met.

"Was that my prize for being the Paintball Queen?" Max murmured, cupping his face and kissing him once more. He scoffed against her lips, though it turned into something of a weak laugh when she pulled away.

"Hardly."

"Oh, bitter looks bad on you," she teased, flinching when she felt the tips of his fingers trailed down her side: up and down and over her breast.

"Come to bed," he urged when he stopped his roaming hand at the base of her neck. She shook her head.

"I need to shower."

"That's not a requirement for my bed," he told her with a grin. Max chuckled, weaving her fingers through his hair, and then sighed.

"No, I have to get going," she insisted. Pulling away, she stepped around him and peered into her room to look at the clock by her bed. "Yeah, I have to meet with Ben soon."

"What?"

"We're doing a review session today," she remarked when she faced him again. "You know… for the next test? Everyone seems to be bombing those things lately…"

She almost added that he wouldn't know, seeing as he had missed the last two, but she refrained. They had had such a wonderful time, and she wasn't about to sully the mood by picking a fight. No, she could wait.

"Why with _Ben_?"

"Because we're both TAs…" She said it as though it was the most obvious fact in the world, and then darted into her room to grab a towel. When she returned, he looked thoroughly unimpressed, dare she say annoyed. "I told you this was happening."

"No, you didn't."

"I definitely did."

"You didn't, Max."

"Okay, well, now I am," she said with a bit of a huff, thrown by his sudden shift in mood. "Look, I'll only be gone for an hour or so."

"You could always leave Ben to handle the little children," he mused, reaching out for her when she sauntered back toward the bathroom. She sidestepped his hand.

"I said I'd help."

"Fine." She watched him slip back into his boxers. "Fine."

Her eyes narrowed as he stalked down the hallway and disappeared into the kitchen. What was his _issue_? He had been especially testy whenever she mentioned Ben lately, and it was starting to grate on her nerves. Not only was Ben in a relationship, but it seemed like his crush on her was a remnant of some ancient past that was never to be spoken of again. Therefore, she couldn't imagine what was making Loki's hackles rise whenever she said her friend's name.

Whatever. Rolling her eyes, she turned away and locked herself in the bathroom, irritably going through the usual routine in a stony silence. When she finished, she had every intention of confronting Loki about his mood swing, but when she stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in her towel, she saw his door shut, and then thought better of it. As she walked by, she heard something break, as though it had been thrown against a wall and hurled to the ground, and she hurriedly shut herself up in her room.

* * *

Pepper awoke when she felt something prick her arm. Groaning, she placed a hand on her forehead and tried to sit up, only to panic when she felt someone push her back down. Chest heaving, her eyes flew open; she was still in her darkened hospital suite, the private one Tony had spent a fortune on, and a masked doctor hovered over her. She wished she was at home. Where was Bruce?

"Relax."

It was a man who spoke, the man behind the mask, and yet there was something off about him. It was the tone he took, the way his voice curved around the words: it was all wrong. It was forced, as though he was speaking a foreign language.

"What are you doing?" she whispered. There was a tube in her arm. The tube attached to a hanging IV drip. Bruce was gone. "Bruce?"

"Relax."

There it was again. Off wording. Strange pronunciation. She tried to get up once more, but whatever the man was pumping her with finally seemed to kick in, and her world started to grow fuzzy. Her limbs weakened, and right before she plunged into darkness, she caught the metallic flash of a knife.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**OH SHIT, GUYZ. OH. SHIT. **

**So… two updates in a row! Very exciting! I've had such a strong muse for this lately, and a part of me wants to put my other stories on hiatus to work on it. However, one of my other stories is less than ten chapters away from completion, so I'd like to get it wrapped up. Once that happens, I think I'll refrain from starting other WIPs, and just work on this story and my Loki/Sigyn one. So. More frequent updates! Hurray!**

**You all left incredible feedback for the last chapter, and I'm thrilled that people ship Garret and Tiff as much as I do. My babies. **

**I've played paintball once in my life, and while I had fun, I was absolute shit. Like. My first round I got taken out within thirty seconds when someone shot me in the head. That was fun. And then I was super proud about hitting some lurker, only to realize she was on my team. Guhh. But I like that Max gets weirdly competitive over it… I don't think she's the hyper-competitive type normally, so it was fun to write. **

**I am hoping to infuse more of godly-Loki into my more recent chapters… Like, more things that indicate he's less human than he once was, and I hope that came across. I mean, he still threw a tantrum like a toddler, so there we go, but we're working on it. Loki rehabilitation takes time. **

**Love you allllll. I adore you feedback, and adds to lists, and just… everything. SEE YOU SOON. LIKE. REAL SOON. **


	51. Your Heart's a Mess

Communal bathrooms were something that Loki would never be able to get over. It wasn't as though he had some horrible disfigurement to hide, but he had never been forced to share a bathroom with the general public before. However, it seemed that every public place he went to was filled with holes in the walls for men to relieve themselves at, and only the absurdly strange ones used to the toilet without a real reason to. Most of the campus bathrooms were fairly clean, but the one at the karaoke bar had such an incredibly awful smell to it that Loki struggled between the idea of waiting until they left or sneaking into the women's room to escape the stench. In the end, he decided to endure the horrors of the men's washroom another minute longer: the desperation of his bladder was difficult to ignore.

It seemed that, despite the fact that everyone was ridiculously busy, Max and her friends were going to make karaoke night a weekly affair. Fresh off her paintball domination, Max organized an outing with her friends that Thursday night, and seeing as he had very little else in his life to distract him, Loki was obviously hauled down to the bar for the affair. Although she seemed fine, something had been off with his lady ever since their pathetic spat over her leaving with Ben on Sunday. He hadn't meant to come across so confrontational, but something about her and Ben doing things together away from him made his insides burn. Max had proved to be a faithful lover ever since they committed to one another; never once had she given him reason to doubt her true feelings for him.

But something about her friendship with Ben made him angry. He knew precisely where the anger came from: jealousy. This stint on Earth had given him time to think—a lot of time—and he had spent who knows how many hours nitpicking himself as a person, hoping to find what had brought about his downfall. He had always been a jealous man. In fact, he had been an envious boy right from the start, and sought to punish those who invoked such feelings within him. Thor had been the person he was most jealous of _and_ most jealous for; he hated when his former brother spent more time with the others when they were growing up. He knew he loved Thor desperately—more than anyone else did, anyway—and his jealousy did horrible things to their relationship.

And now it was flaring up with Max. He had broken his cell phone in a rage; angry at both Max and Ben, and himself, he had hurled the device at the wall in an effort to vent his frustration over the feelings he had yet to master. Afterward, he heard Max's door shut tentatively on the other side of his, and he realized she had been privy to his childish outburst. Although they hadn't discussed it, she still treaded lightly around him for a few days until he had proved he wouldn't lose his temper again. He regretted it. He disliked how attached he had come to the woman; it was to the point where he was too protective of their relationship, hoarding her away in his bedroom so that no one else had a chance to take her from him.

So, in a showing of goodwill toward the rest of her friends, Loki only pouted a little when Max refused to stay in for the night, opting for their bar instead. All of their usual companions, Max included, agreed that it would be an early night—they all had classes the following day—and ordered their pitchers accordingly. However, as each one succumbed to their drink, Loki sat back with a knowing smile: they would _all_ be nursing hangovers in the morning. Loki offered to stay sober enough to drive Max home when she was finished, which she willingly agreed to when Tiffany showed up with a tray of shot glasses filled with different coloured liquids.

Before he had left for the bathroom, his woman was singing enthusiastically (and terribly) along to someone's horrible rendition of a rock classic, which Garret seemed to encourage. Out of all of them, Loki and Garret were certainly the least intoxicated, and Loki had a sinking suspicion the man would keep plying Tiffany and Max with alcohol in order to film their drunken exploits on his telephone.

Speaking of telephones…

Loki fished his new cellphone out of his pocket once he had zipped up, and then swiped his finger across the screen. As usual, there was nothing from anyone. He hadn't heard from Stark or any of the others in well over a fortnight now, and he was glad. Although he doubted that they had gotten a handle on the Pagurolid problem—they _were_ tricky devils to master—that this realm had acquired, he was happy that they left him out of it. The issue wasn't his fight. Naturally, he would step up to defend the residents of this pathetic little town; he had grown rather fond of their dreary charm. Loki, however, had no desire to throw on a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform and give himself over to the impending war.

No, he planned to be long-gone by then, preferably with Max in tow.

Satisfied that his new phone had no missed calls or text messages, he stuffed it back into the pocket of his jeans and turned around, flinching when he came face-to-face with a man who seemed to be spinning in his head.

"Can I help you?" Loki snapped, eyes narrowing as the man blinked at him. For a brief moment, he thought he may have another Pagurolid foot soldier on his hands. However, when the fellow licked his lips and nodded pointedly down to the urinal that Loki had just vacated, he realized that it was just another horribly drunken patron—human, at that.

"I need'ta—"

"Yes, I'm sure you do," he muttered, smirking as he darted around the drunkard and made his way toward the sink. After a quick rinse, he was out the door, nose wrinkled when he heard the man moan noisily. Relief was always sweet, but dignity ought to be maintained in the process.

However, dignity was not a word that was associated with karaoke night, and when he spotted Max up on the stage, teetering in her high-heeled boots and leaning on Ben, he realized dignity had ceased to exist entirely. Eyes narrowed, he stalked across the bar as the music started, and then came an abrupt halt as the yowling commenced. Well, not yowling: Max didn't sound quite as terrible this time as she did before, but it was the words that were offensive to his ears. The song was a duet, sung back and forth between her and Ben, and the word "love" was mentioned less than ten seconds into the tune.

Hands clenched, he hurried back to the group's table, at which he only found Garret and Erica, and glared at the stage.

"I'm sorry, man," Garret laughed, arms folded across his chest, a beer in hand. "I know you said not to let her sing, but it's just _too_ funny to pass up."

"What..." He trailed off, taking a deep breath to get the edge out of his tone. "What are they singing? I'm not familiar with the song."

"Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros," the man told him. "You can always tell Max is on the verge of belligerent when she tries to sound country."

"I think I'll get her some water," Loki remarked tersely. Garret shrugged, and Loki saw the man shoot him a look out of the corner of his eye. Even though he really ought to find her some water, he was rooted to the spot, forced to watch Max and Ben croon about moats and boats and waterfalls, and _girl I've never loved one like you_.

It took ever fibre in his being not to march up to that damn wooden makeshift stage and haul Max off it; didn't she realize how this made him look? _His_ woman was there, drunkenly warbling some romantic duet with a man who clearly still had sentiment for her. Loki's eyes drifted over to Erica in an effort to gauge the woman's reaction, and he felt immediately vindicated when the seated woman folded her arms across her chest and stared pointedly at her drink.

There. He wasn't the only one to notice this foolishness, and he certainly wasn't going to let Max get away with such ridiculous behaviour. If she had gone up there and howled with Corey or Garret, Loki wouldn't bat an eye. However, this was Ben—the man who, based on the way he smiled at her, still cared very deeply for her. Damn his efforts to quell his jealousy: this was a justifiable situation for rage.

* * *

She was hammered. The only time Max let herself sing karaoke with a Southern twang was if she knew she could pretend that she didn't remember it the following morning. Okay, so maybe not hammered: one couldn't be hammered if they were being purposefully deceptive. However, she still needed to lean heavily on Ben's thin shoulders as she clambered off the stage, fresh from her hilarious rendition of "Home" and cursing the fact that she chose to wear her only pair of leather boots with ridiculously high heels on them.

Loki seemed to appreciate them when she showed them off for him earlier in the evening, so that sort of made it worth it. She winced when her left ankle twisted again, and Ben laughed by her side as he steadied her for the thousandth time in the last few minutes. Hell, most of her performance involved using him for support: she wanted to dance, but her legs definitely weren't capable of handling the movement, so she compromised with a willing participant. Ben _rarely _had the courage to do karaoke, so when he found one of his favourite songs in the big binder of song potentials, Max took up the offer to do it while he had still had the gumption.

Just as she remembered, Ben was equally terrible at karaoke, with absolutely no musical rhythm to speak of, but at least they had fun.

She barely noticed the way his hand lingered on her, the tips of his fingers pressing the loose fabric of her shirt against her slightly sweaty lower back. Somehow, they managed to make their way through the few tables that separated them from theirs without Max falling, though she was pleased to have a little support for the journey. Rather than going straight for her drink, as she wanted, Max picked Loki out in the darkened area of the bar. He was leaning back against a post behind their table, his arms folded across his chest.

"Where's Erica?" Max inquired as she left Ben's side, only vaguely noticing that the woman's chair was empty. When she glanced back at Ben, she saw the man staring down at his phone, frowning with furrowed eyebrows. A quick look to Garret told her not to ask, and she licked her lips as she teetered in her heels.

"She left." It was Loki who answered her inquiry, though he certainly sounded more serious than she expected. After all, she had just made a fool of herself on stage: she fully expected him to take that opportunity to mock her relentlessly. However, when he stared down the tip of his nose at her, she saw no mirth in his eyes—none of the lightness she had become accustomed to.

"Apparently," she muttered, leaning against him once she was close enough. The fact that he didn't wrap his arms around her in return, but rather kept them folded across her chest, threw her, and she cleared her throat as she straightened up. "Why did she leave?"

"Perhaps it was for the same reason I wish to leave," he told her tightly, lips barely parting as he spoke. Max's eyebrows creased as she stared up at him, and then shoved her hands in her pockets.

"I'm sorry… Have I missed something?"

"Oh, no, you were a part of it."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" She looked over her shoulder to see if their exchange had caught the interest of her friends, but it seemed they all had better things to focus on suddenly. Ben was seated in Erica's discarded chair, texting furiously, while Garret was in the process of pouring the remaining beer from various bottles into his glass. Pleased that no one was eavesdropping (not that they could, mind you, as there was a new singer on the stage), she turned her attention back to Loki. "Are you mad at me?"

"How can you ask me that after what you've just done?"

Groaning, she tried to blink away the drunken haze; this called for more focus than she was capable of giving, but she had to try. Heat rushed to her cheeks as he glared down at her, and she could feel an anxious knot starting in the pit of her stomach: had she actually done something? In the silence that followed, she ran through everything she did that day, and while the details were a little vague, she couldn't think of a single thing she had done that would have offended him like this.

"I repeat," she said finally, "what the fuck are you talking about?"

"You stood up there," he pointed toward the stage, "in front of everyone and sang _that_ song with _him_—"

"What's wrong with the song?!"

"It wasn't _just_ the song," he hissed, ducking down so that they were at eye-level. "It was that you chose to sing it with _him_ in front of everyone. Do you realize how foolish that makes me look?"

She stared at him for a moment, completely dumbstruck, and shook her head. "You're a crazy person."

"Excuse me?"

"First of all," she snapped, stepping closer and lowering her voice. "_Ben_ chose that song, not me, and I agreed to do it because no one else would—"

"A likely story." Her eyes narrowed when he scoffed. "I'm sure you were the only one he asked."

"It was just a bit of fun—"

"Don't be so naïve, Max," he said, each word more patronizing than the last. "It's unbecoming."

"Yeah?" She nearly stabbed him in the chest with a finger, but then thought better of it. "Well, so is being a jealous dick."

He straightened up sharply, and Max noticed the way his hands balled into fists. However, she managed to hold her ground, keeping her place in front of him as she watched him clench and unclench his jaw. Finally, he nodded pointedly at her coat.

"Get dressed," he told her. "We're leaving."

"Nope," she said, stepping in his way as he tried to move around her, probably going for his coat on the back of his chair. "I'm having a good time. If _you_ want to go, _you_ can leave."

Once he managed to get around her, she realized she was literally shaking with anger. So she had _embarrassed_ him by singing some stupid song with Ben? His issues with her friend were beyond the point of ridiculousness, and had she been less drunk, she would have found an intelligent way to articulate that. However, she thought she was handling herself pretty well considering how much she had to drink earlier.

As soon as she turned around, she spotted her man marching toward the exit, nudging people out of the way without a care, and in that moment, Max decided he wasn't allowed to say what he said and just walk away. Grabbing her coat and purse from her chair, she rammed an arm into each sleeve, eyes fixed on Loki's back, and made for the exit.

"Max, wait." It was Garret who stopped her, grabbing her by the arm suddenly and holding her back. "Maybe let him cool off first?"

"It's fine, Garret," she told him flatly as she shook him off. He looked as though he had something more to say, but she wasn't about to stick around to listen to it. She passed Tiffany on the way out, who was probably the only person in their group drunker than she was, but she bypassed her friend's grabby hands as deftly as she could, a singular goal on her mind.

The frigid night air sucked the breath from her lungs as she shoved through the front exit, and Max hastily zipped her coat up; it might have been March, but it seemed like they were in for another bout of winter weather. Loki wasn't particularly difficult to spot across the icy parking lot: he was the only person out there aside from Max. The music grew dimmer as she trekked across the snow and ice, her breath blowing hotly against her cheeks.

"What are you going to do?" she demanded, her voice echoing across the nearly vacant lot. "Walk home?"

"Isn't that what you told me to do?" he spat, barely glancing over his shoulder as he spoke. She glared when he slowed only slightly, but she managed to catch up with one or two near-slips.

"Well, it's almost midnight—"

"And this town is barely a blip on the map," Loki all but shouted, whirling back and glaring at her. "If I needed to walk to the other side of it, I'm sure I could manage before the hour is up!"

"What the _fuck_, man?" She slammed her hand against his arm, which made his eyes widen. "What is _with_ you?"

She noticed a slight tremble in his jaw as he glowered down at her, and he seemed to take a few deep breaths before responding. "Ben—"

"And there it is," she said dramatically, throwing her arms up and rolling her eyes. "The fucking truth at last!"

"Do _not_ talk to me like I'm some simpering idiot," Loki snarled as he pointed an accusatory finger at her. "The man is so clearly still in love with you that it's nauseating."

"You're so full of shit," she scoffed, shaking her head and shifting her weight back and forth between her feet. "Full of it."

"It wouldn't surprise me if he was dating his trollop to cover up the affection he has for you—"

"Oh my god, why can't you ever say things like a normal person?" she groaned, her teeth chattering noisily as she adjusted to the cold. "This is _ridiculous._ You are being ridiculous—"

"I certainly am not."

"There's nothing happening between Ben and me!" She wanted to scream it from the rooftops. "He is my friend… That's all I will _ever_ see him as!"

"Oh, no, he's whittling away at your resolve," Loki told her. "He's manipulating you, Max—"

She huffed noisily. "Jealousy is ugly on you."

"Ugly on _me_?" he repeated. "Do you recall that week you spent punishing me for fooling around with Erica?" Her jaw dropped as he nodded. "Yes, now, are you trying to tell me that your behaviour was _not_ fuelled by jealousy? That your hatred of that woman is from something _beyond_ jealousy?"

"Fuck you—"

"Ah, you see," he said with a cold laugh. "Jealousy is ugly on all of us."

Breathing heavily, Max could no longer find the words to fight with him. Propelled by alcohol and pent-up frustration, she knew she had let this carry on for longer than it ought to. The fact that he had brought up something from their past that still, in some ways, ripped at raw feelings (even if it shouldn't) had been the endpoint for her, and she turned away, slipping a little on an ice patch. Teeth gritted, she wrenched open her purse and fished around for her keys; there was no fucking way she was walking home in this cold.

"What are you doing?" Loki demanded, and a quick glance over her shoulder showed her that he was following her.

"I'm going home," she snapped, yanking her keys free once she finally found them. "You can fucking walk."

"You certainly aren't driving."

"Yes, I am—"

"Give me those," he ordered. Max grunted when she felt his hand on her forearm, and in the heat of the moment, she had every obstacle working against her: intoxication, heels on ice, and inferior physical strength. "Stop being a child, Max."

"_You_ stop being a child." She twisted away just enough to get some distance between them, but he dragged her back so quickly that she lost her balance, falling against his chest. He caught her with a hand around her waist and then wrestled her keychain from her hand. She put up a valiant effort to hold onto her keys, even resorting to her nails to fend him off, but he still managed to get them loose. Once he had them, he shoved her in the direction of her car.

"Get in."

"You aren't driving," she sneered. "You don't even have a license—"

"Get in the car, Max," he repeated, this time taking a step toward her. She flinched away, momentarily worried that he might actually hoist her up and shove her into the beat-up vehicle. He seemed to notice the way she recoiled, and backed off just enough to make her feel comfortable again. "Get in the car, Max. You are not walking home, and you are certainly not driving… We will deal with this mess when you've sobered."

"I'm _fine_," she spat, turning on her heel and stalking toward the door. She tugged on the handle, glaring at her frazzled reflection in the window. "Maybe if you fucking unlocked it, I could actually get in."

He said nothing as he wedged the key into the lock on the other side, his expression stern, and Max plopped into the front seat once she was able to. The car's insides were almost as cold as the outside, and once he had the key in the ignition, she turned the heat up as much as she could. She caught him shooting her a look in the overhead mirror, and she folded her arms across her chest.

"Don't look at me like I'm being unreasonable," she said shakily. "I may be drunk, but I'm not the one who is completely out of line."

"Hmm."

The car lurched forward under Loki's heavy foot, and Max turned a teary—angrily teary, mind you—gaze out the window, her jacket's hood enveloping her as the heater blared. Her head was starting to hurt, and as Loki took each and every turn with unnecessary sharpness, she was starting to feel dizzy. Bed was probably the only cure for it, and she definitely wasn't going to be sharing one with Loki—not tonight, not for the rest of the week.

Not until he apologized for making a stupid scene out of nothing.

They remained in a tense silence all the way home, and when he finally settled into a spot in their apartment's parking lot, Max practically fell out of the car. He too jumped out, slamming the door noisily behind him. She handled her door with a little more tenderness: she wasn't going to damage something to prove a point. However, as soon as she turned away from the vehicle, the ground slipped out from under her.

One moment she was upright, steady and balanced, and in the next her feet slid on a patch of black ice. She turned halfway through the fall, squealing in the process, and ended up landing on her wrist, which crunched noisily beneath her. Her forehead also slammed into the ground before she could stop it.

Fucking phenomenal.

"Max?"

Loki's voice was nearby, and seconds later she felt his hands tenderly help her sit up, bracing her by her upper arms. Her trembling hands lay in her lap, and she looked down at the one she had fallen on, her vision a little hazy. She drew a strained breath when he repeated her name, and before she could stop herself, she started to cry: tears of pain, frustration, anger, embarrassment.

"Look at me," he ordered, falling to his knees in front of her. It was difficult to focus on anything aside from his voice: her vision wasn't cooperating as well as it should. His hands were warm on her cheeks as he tilted her head up. "There… There, you're alright. It's just a little blood—"

"I'm bleeding?" she whimpered, her breath stuttering out as she reached for her forehead. Sure enough, her fingers touched something slick, and when she saw that they were red, her breathing started to quicken. "What—"

"It probably feels worse than it looks, not to worry," he murmured, taking her fingers and wiping them on his jacket. She cried out when he touched her other wrist, which was far too sensitive for even the slightest bit of movement. "This, on the other hand…"

"C-Can you take me to the hospital?" she managed, her eyes opening and closing slowly as a heaviness started to sink in. "Loki…"

"Yes, yes, of course I'll take you." She wrapped her undamaged arm around his neck when he scooped her up, their previous argument forgotten. They somehow managed to get the passenger door open, and she ducked her throbbing head as he set her inside. He shut the door much softer this time. When Max closed her eyes, he was in front of the car, and when she opened them, he was suddenly at her side, shaking her a little. "Don't close your eyes."

"I think it's broken," she muttered, tears rolling down her cheeks as she studied her wounded wrist. She had broken her right index finger when she was eleven, and this felt about four times worse, even with the alcohol in her system; it was definitely broken.

"Hush now," Loki said absently, a hand on her leg. When she looked at him, she saw that he was on his phone. "It will be easy to fix, I'm sure."

"What are you doing?"

"Finding the nearest hospital and the fastest route," he told her. He glanced up at her a moment later, and then made a face before reaching into the back seat. When he straightened, he pressed a clump of tissues into her hand. "Hold that on your forehead."

"No," she sighed, shifting down in her seat and closing her eyes. "I'm fine—"

"Max." His tone was sharp once more, but there were no traces of anger. She whimpered when he placed her hand on her forehead himself, pushing it against her wound. "Open your eyes and keep holding that there. Do you understand?"

She inhaled sharply when he pinched her, and she felt as though she had just awoken from a lengthy nap. When he repeated the question, she nodded, but that only seemed to make the pain worse. Loki reached across her and buckled her in, careful to avoid her quickly swelling wrist, and then brought the car to life as his phone's GPS application barked out directions.

* * *

Monitoring Max's condition on the half-hour drive to the nearest hospital was an absolute nightmare. Not only was she falling in and out of consciousness every few minutes, it was absolutely gut-wrenching to listen to her whimpers and cries whenever something jostled her wrist. When he finally had the car pulled into an empty space in the lot across the road from a bright sign that read "emergency room", Loki almost flew out of the car.

The night had not gone as he expected. Firstly, he hadn't expected either of their explosive reactions to his annoyance with her duet; all of it seemed so petty now. Secondly, he had never anticipated feeling so terrible when he saw Max in pain, and it was difficult to think of anything else except for how awful _he_ felt at the end of all this. He had pushed her. He had shouted at her. He had intimidated her with his size. He had behaved like a brute, and there was nothing he could do now to express how deeply disgusted he was with his actions. However, he thought that taking care of her after her slip was a decent enough start, and he fully intended to remain by her side until a doctor had seen to her wounds.

The handful of tissues he had found in the backseat was absolutely soaked with her blood, and that certainly did not help with her wooziness. He suspected she was on the verge of a concussion, though he hadn't seen how hard she knocked her head against the ground. Although Asgardians—and Loki—were built of strong stuff, they were not completely immune to injuries. He had seen broken bones (that were easily mended, mind you) and concussed skulls in the training arena as a boy, but he knew that Max, as a human, probably felt the pain much stronger than he ever had.

"I can walk," she protested when he reached down to scoop her out of the vehicle.

"I'll not risk you falling again," he told her. She was easy to lift, but he tried to do so slowly in order to spare her some agony. After he kicked the door shut, he hurried across the road toward the brightly lit hospital building. It was in the middle of nowhere, nestled between two tiny towns in the countryside, and as Loki approached, he was pleased to see that it appeared relatively quiet.

The glass doors slid open for him as he raced through, and he soon found himself in a very bright white room. There were three rows of empty chairs lined up in front of a desk, behind which sat an elderly woman in a purple nurse's uniform. She looked up as Loki hurried forward, and he saw her grab a nearby telephone and speak into it—hopefully to call for reinforcements.

"She slipped on some ice," Loki said before the woman could get a word in. Max groaned as he readjusted his grip around her, almost holding her out for the woman to view. "We think her wrist is broken, and she knocked her head when she fell."

"Why didn't you call an ambulance?" the woman snapped as she approached. "She shouldn't be moving this much—"

"She's here now, isn't she?" He tried to keep the aggression out of his tone, but it was difficult to do so when the woman seemed bent on chastising him rather than looking at Max. Suddenly, a set of double-doors to the far left of the desk burst open, and Loki let out a relieved sigh when a pair of men rushed forth with a bed on wheels between them.

"I haven't gotten her vitals yet," the woman told them as one helped Loki set Max down gently, "but she'll need a full work-up."

"Thanks, Glenda."

One of them pushed Loki back by the chest, though not harshly, and before he could stop them, they wheeled Max out of sight beyond the heavy doors. He tried to follow, but he was blocked instantly by the judgemental woman in purple—Glenda—and he vaguely heard the doors seal shut moments later.

"You have paperwork to do," she told him. He continued to stare at the doors, jaw clenched, and when she spoke again, her tone was softer. "They'll take good care of her."

He nodded weakly. "Yes, see that they do."

"Are you her husband?"

His eyebrows shot up at the question, and he tried to find the right wording on the spot. Not lover. "Boyfriend."

"Okay, then just fill out the forms the best you can." She was already behind her desk when he turned around, pulling out a stack of papers that were quickly snapped in to a clipboard. "We'll get the rest from her once she's stable."

His legs refused to move for a moment, but he eventually got them going again. Loki accepted the sturdy clipboard and pen, and then took a seat in a nearby chair. Everything felt heavy: limbs, body, and mind. He tried to fill in all of the blank spots the best he could. There was no trouble with her name, date of birth, and address, but he hadn't any idea about her medical history. He knew she took little pills to keep from becoming pregnant, and managed to write something similar to the brand name in the section that required her medications.

"Has she been drinking?"

Loki glanced up and saw that the woman had the phone in her hands again, and he nodded. "Yes."

"Have you?"

"_A_ drink," he emphasized. "Nothing serious."

She returned to speaking in hushed tones on her telephone, and Loki tried to fill out the remainder of the forms. When he could no longer provide anything useful, he returned them to the woman. She thanked him, but refused to let him go beyond the doors; he would have to wait. He paced the length of the room dozens of times before he shed his coat, leaving it to the side when he realized how warm he had become. The better part of two hours passed before anyone told him anything. In that time, a young family had come in with a child screaming of an earache, and an elderly couple (who were apparently frequent visitors) wanted the husband admitted for stomach pains.

Loki watched the hospital staff handle both situations in the same professional manner that they had seen to Max, and he had to commend them for their patience. The child of the frazzled young parents wouldn't stop screaming, and yet the woman behind the desk took his vital signs with care. The elderly woman was incredibly rude to begin with, and never once did the nurse bat an eye to it. He could only hope that those tending to Max were as careful with her.

He should have felt tired. After all, he had been up since nine that morning, and it was nearly ten minutes to two the _following_ morning, and yet he hadn't the slightest urge to sleep. No, he was wide awake, waiting and watching those damn doors for some news—any news.

"Loki?"

He turned sharply on his umpteenth loop around the rows of chairs when he heard his name, and quickly stalked across the room toward the young woman in a green hospital uniform. He grabbed his jacket along the way, and nearly plowed into the woman in his eagerness to get beyond those doors.

"How is she?"

"She'll be fine," Helen—according to her nametag—told him. She glanced down at the clipboard in her hands, and then returned her gaze to his, speaking in patient tones. "Her wrist is fractured, and she has a moderate concussion. Her head didn't need any stitches, but it'll be sore for a while."

"I suspect everything will be," Loki sighed, relieved that there appeared to be no permanent damage. "May I see her? I'd like to take her home."

"We're going to keep her overnight," she told him. "We've set her up in a room… Would you like to stay? The doctor needs to make sure her head is fine before she goes to sleep."

"Yes, yes, I would," Loki said quickly, eager to get around her and find Max. However, he had to fill out more paperwork before he was issued a visitor's badge, which he was forced to wear around his neck like a piece of fine jewelry. None of it mattered, however, once he was beyond the double-doors and following Helen through a maze of taupe hallways. While the waiting room hadn't been particularly busy, the rest of the hospital was abuzz with activity and noise.

Max's room was at the very end of a hallway on the third floor, and when Loki saw her in bed, changed into a fresh pale blue gown and a plastic tube in her arm, he all but fell upon her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and gently touching her leg. She sighed.

"Like shit."

He heard Helen chuckle in the doorway, and her laugh brought about a smile of his own. While she might have felt terrible, Max certainly looked better than he anticipated. Now that the blood had been cleaned from her face and the wound on her head had been covered, it almost looked as though nothing was wrong. However, there was a wrap around her wrist, and he was careful to avoid it.

"We'll handle her pain medications while she's here," Helen told him after a moment of silence, during which he spent busily checking Max for injuries that they might have missed. "I'm going to give you a list that you should get from the hospital pharmacy for her to take when she gets home."

"Yes, please do," he muttered, stroking the top of Max's hand when he took it in his.

"We don't have any extra cots tonight," the nurse continued, "but I can bring you some chairs to sleep on?"

He nodded as he turned back to face her. "Please."

"She also needs to be up for another hour," Helen told him, tucking her pen back into her sloppy blonde bun. "The doctor will assess her then, so you need to keep her awake." Loki nodded: he could do that. "Do you want a coffee?"

Touched by her concern, he offered her a small smile. "Would it be too much trouble for a tea?"

"Not at all. Green?"

"Yes." He glanced back at Max. "And perhaps water for her?"

"The IV will make sure she isn't too hung-over in the morning," the nurse informed him. "She should be fine… Just keep her talking and alert."

"I will."

The woman gave them each a once-over before disappearing into the hall, and Loki faced Max once more with hesitation.

"My face hurts," she mumbled, reaching directly for the bandaged spot on her head. Loki caught her hand gently and held it to his chest.

"I know."

"So does my wrist."

"I'm sorry, Max," he said, which made her sigh.

"Why?"

"I'm sorry for upsetting you," he told her earnestly. "We'll make things right in the morning."

She nodded, and then winced shortly after. Helen returned within fifteen minutes with his tea, and Loki managed to keep Max focused on a deck of cards he found in her purse for the remainder of the hour. Although she would have rather gone to sleep, he forced her to teach him to play a game about a fish and pairs of like cards, and he gently shook her awake whenever she seemed to start to drift off.

The doctor arrived a little later than Helen had promised, but when Loki heard a knock at the door, he was actually pleased to see the man. Tall, middle-aged, dressed in a white coat and clean slacks, he looked quite professional indeed.

"Hello, Max," he greeted as Loki gathered up their cards and stepped away from the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I want to go to bed," she whined, which made Loki grin again.

"Well, if you pass my tests, you're in the clear," he told her warmly. Loki watched from a safe distance as the man checked her reflexes and flashed a light in her eyes, and then patted her good arm when he was through. "Sleep tight, kid."

He could almost see the tension leave her face when she was given the go-ahead, and Loki followed the doctor out to spare her the noise of their conversation.

"She's going to be hurting tomorrow," the man told him, hands on his hips, "and the concussion is going to make everything worse… She needs to wear the splint for the next three weeks, even in the shower."

"Yes," Loki nodded a few times. "How shall I—"

"I'm having a nurse get a package ready for you to take home," he was told. "It'll go over all the care you need to give her once she's ready to go. I don't see why she'll need to be here any later than nine or ten tomorrow morning. I'll have someone evaluate her again, and then you can take her home."

Loki stared at the man for a moment. He was roughly Loki's height, though he surely lacked the physical and mental strength to match wits with him. And yet… And yet Loki looked to him to keep Max safe, to make her well. He needed him, and he took every word the man said as though it were canonical.

"Thank you." And he meant it—deeply and truly.

"No problem."

The doctor disappeared shortly after, and when Loki stepped back into the room, he saw that Max had already fallen asleep. With eyes now ready to close himself, he dragged his chair toward her bed and settled down into it. He then kicked off his shoes and propped his feet up, knitting his fingers together as he tried to get comfortable.

"Here."

The voice made him jump, but he smiled when he saw Helen had returned with a pillow. She had him lean forward in order to set it in behind him, and once he was situated, she turned the light off. Before long, Loki joined Max in a peaceful slumber, all remnants of his anger completely dissipated for the time being.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**I had originally planned for this to be done later in the week. However, I started writing their fight earlier tonight, and then it was over: I couldn't stop. This is the beginning of the end, dearies. Five chapters plus an epilogue to go. And YES, I know you're all keen and eager for the big reveal, but I **_**did**_** warn you it would be toward the end of the story. So. We're getting there. **

**I liked the character development for both Loki and Max here. Mostly Max. I realize that she swears **_**a lot**_** when she fights, which points to a bit of immaturity in her character. I also had a lame writer moment: when Max started to cry, I started to cry. I'm so bloody invested in this story, and writing fights and things are something that I do after I sort of have those scenes play out over and over in my head and I talk them through to make sure dialogue works well… So when she broke, I did a bit too. **

**Ahem. Anywhooo. I'm so excited for the remainder of the chapters. LIKE SO EXCITED. I've played them out so many times in my head, and I'm keen to get started. I put a different Loki fic of mine on hold while I work on this and another, so updates will be more frequent. **

**The title of this song comes from Gotye's "Heart's a Mess", and it basically PREACHES Max and Loki's romance at various points between now and the future, and Loki's brokenness when it comes to love, and just… unf feels. Music is a huge inspiration for me, and when I was listening to "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, I knew that was the perfect song for Max and Ben to do that would really set Loki off. Fun.  
**

**THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR LOVELY REVIEWS! I can't believe there are over 900 collective reviews, and I'm unbelievably flattered by how many of you take the time to talk to me after each chapter. It melts my heart. My heart's a mess, amirite?**


	52. Loki of Asgard

"What's happening over there, Romanoff?"

"We've got sound but no picture," Natasha replied, leaning over the microphone and shooting a glare at Clint. "We'll get it up in a moment, Director."

"Oh, good," she heard him bark, "because I want to see your face when you explain to me why seven agents at your location are dead, and the rest are missing."

"They aren't missing, sir," Steve piped up from the background. "We have a general idea where they are."

"That's great, Captain," Fury muttered, his voice crackling a little when Clint fiddled with some dials. "You know how much I love generalities."

She smirked when she saw Stark roll his eyes dramatically in the reflection of the darkened screen before them. Fury sighed on the other end, and she smacked Clint's arm when he was close enough, which earned her an annoyed glare and a swat at her legs as he crouched down beneath the consul.

They had been trying to get a hold of Fury for days now. In the aftermath of the station's attack on them, they had removed the bodies and sent Jane to a nearby hospital to have her shoulder looked at. Unfortunately, once they disposed of the compromised agents, they learned that the entire base had essentially been shut down; Clint assumed they intended to abandon it once they killed her and the rest of the Avengers team. No one was sure whether the rogue agents had been infected, so to be safe, they burned the bodies and tossed the ashes out to sea—that seemed to settle any issues of hairless aliens lurking in chest cavities.

All of them wanted to leave. As they waited for Stark to join them, Natasha was itching to get into the plane on the runway and search for 22 in the skies. However, they still had no idea where he had taken the flying wing, and she knew it would be a waste of fuel to roam aimlessly across Europe. So, she waited. Once Stark arrived, arrogant and flippant as ever, the team set to work on repairing the station. They needed to reboot just about every piece of electronic gear, not to mention restore the computers; for once, she was glad to have Stark around, because if he was working, so was his little robot butler.

For the most part, Thor and Jane kept to themselves. The bullet wound had left Jane's right arm useless while it healed, and Thor was really only good for the heavy lifting. Still, the duo managed to keep the team fed and looked after while they worked, and that was all that mattered. It took them about a week to get the majority of the station back up and running, and with Banner tracking the flying wing from New York, she liked to think they had turned their situation around pretty drastically in such a short time.

Generally, 22 seemed to keep the flying wing moving. Bruce had followed the aircraft across Europe, and it did a loop around the Middle East before heading back. Unfortunately, earlier that day, Banner had alerted them to the fact that the flying wing was directly on Fury's tail in the skies, and their previous assumption had been proven correct: 22 was gunning for Fury, and the Director needed to be warned.

Unfortunately, their connection with the hovercraft had been horrible. Once they got their systems back online, they continuously lost their link with the main communications sector of Fury's craft, and it was only in the last hour that they made any progress at all. When they first established a line with the hovercraft, Natasha demanded to speak to Fury as Clint gathered the others. Thor and Jane were in the base's only kitchen, working away at that evening's meal, but the others were quick to join her. Fury was a little more difficult to track down, but when she finally heard his voice on the other side of that blackened screen, she felt as though she could breathe a sigh of relief.

The screen flickered for a moment, and she took a step back, eyes up to the small camera pinned over the center of it. The corners of her lips quirked upward when Fury's familiar face flashed across the monitor, though it disappeared shortly after. It was only then that Stark decided to help, hiking up his trousers and ducking beneath the makeshift consul to give Clint a hand.

"Sir," she started, unable to wait any longer. "Agent 22 has been compromised. He's no longer himself." She waited for a moment, registering the silence from the other line. "We think he's been infected with an alien species known as the Pagurolid."

"What did you just say to me?"

"I've seen them," Stark piped up, sliding out from beneath the mechanical surface and dusting his knees off. Moments later, Fury's image appeared once more, clear and stable. "This is a real threat."

"And _why_ is this the first damn time I'm hearing about it?"

Natasha's smile resurfaced at the anger in Fury's voice: it was good to see him.

"We thought we'd play it close to the chest," Stark said with a shrug, standing at her side with his arms folded—nonchalant as ever. "We thought we could contain it."

"_We_?"

"Your Avengers babies," the billionaire replied, nodding his head back toward the Captain. "I've got Bruce tracking our King Alien now in New York, and our own resident alien—"

"Thor," Natasha clarified when she saw the director's thick eyebrows start to furrow.

"The big guy and his brother say they're real, and they like to live inside people," Stark explained. He trailed off toward the end, growing quiet, and only spoke again when Fury's one eye narrowed at him. "Loki says they'll want to colonize the planet… That's what they do."

Fury exhaled slowly, and then turned back in his chair and spoke to someone. A moment later, Natasha saw Agent Hill exit the dark room, a door shutting softly behind her.

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you used _Loki_ as an alien consultant," he told them, his words pointed and deliberate. "What are they, how do we kill them, and since when as 22 been compromised?"

"I think he was taken in Thailand," Natasha said, jumping in before Stark could launch into another tirade that would only try Fury's patience further. "He tried to kill Barton and me by blowing up our building, but we saw that he cleared out all our gear _and_ the hollowed bodies we found in the capital."

"I sent men to examine the site—"

"We followed him through Russia, Finland, Sweden, and now to Norway," she carried on, eyes flickering over to Barton as he nodded in the background. "We tracked him to the base in Greenland, and we arrived just as he stole Hydra's old flying wing."

"That was going to be my next question," Fury muttered, resting his chin in his hand, head cocked to the side. "Why the hell is that thing hovering outside my ship?"

She resisted the urge to chastise him for calling his vessel a ship. _Yes_, it worked in the water, but it was primarily built for the air, and she _hated_ when he called himself a Captain—or made any other seafaring references.

"He hasn't tried to make contact?" Barton piped up, and Natasha frowned when Fury shook his head.

"We can see him in the pilot's seat," the director told them. "I sent a convoy over to pick him up. He seems to have some explaining to do."

"What?" Natasha all but shouted the word, and Stark took a step away from her. "Sir, he's compromised—"

"I knew something had to be wrong," Fury insisted. "With the base blowing up in Bangkok and no word from either you, Barton or 22… Something was wrong."

"We _did_ check in, to be fair," Clint argued, but Fury seemed to ignore him.

"When we picked up the Hydra flying wing in the air, I assumed that it wasn't you gone rogue for the Motherland." Natasha's eyes narrowed, her hands drifting up to rest irritably on her hips. "Glad to see I was right."

"If I went rogue, my vehicle of choice would _not_ be a flying wing," Natasha snapped, which earned her the first hint of a smile from her director that she had seen thus far.

"Good to know."

"Don't let him board, sir," Steve interjected, stepping forth and positioning himself between her and Stark. "We don't know what these creatures are capable of yet, and we can't be sure how many men he has with him."

"Captain, you do remember how many security personnel are on this ship?"

Natasha rolled her eyes as Steve gave a hesitant nod.

"I do."

"If and when I see evidence that Agent 22 has been compromised, we will take him into custody and handle the situation accordingly."

"He _has_ been compromised," Natasha stressed. "We were attacked by the agents he left behind, who were _also_ compromised, and we've been trying to contact you ever since."

"Check his sternum," Stark added, cutting Fury off mid-word. "He'll have the scars from the surgery… When I say they live inside people, they _literally_ cut them open and live inside them." Fury's eyebrows shot up, and Stark seemed to struggle for a moment. "I haven't figured out how they sync up with the motor functions, or how they do anything, but we're working on it."

"You know this all sounds insane, right?"

"With all due respect, Director," Steve remarked. "Everything we do is a little crazy. There's an alien learning how to make pot-roast two floors above me as we speak… Crazy doesn't begin to describe it."

"Damn it," the director muttered, rubbing his forehead and absently readjusting his eye patch after. "How do we kill them?"

"Same way you kill a human," Stark replied, "but make sure you kill the yoke too… Don't just stop at the egg whites."

Natasha wrinkled her nose at the analogy, but Fury barely batted an eye. Instead, he pressed on with more questions.

"How did they get here?"

"Loki thinks they came in through the wormhole," Steve explained. "Once they touched down, we think they shed one skin and put on another, and that only opened the doors for more of them to get in."

"Is that right?"

"It's a working theory, for now," the Captain told him. "There's obviously much more we need to cover."

Natasha watched her director place a hand to his ear, concentrating on whoever was speaking to him on the other end. She shook her head as he nodded a few times, her heartbeat starting to quicken.

"Take him straight to the detention area, Director," she warned. "Don't give him any chances."

"We're handling it," he told her sharply. It was in that moment that the Gods of Irony decided to act: the screen flickered in tandem with five shots being fired somewhere nearby, and the room watched as Fury bolted up with his gun in hand.

"Director!"

"Nick!"

The screen continued to fizzle in and out of focus, and then went completely black moments later. Stark and Clint dashed for the controls in the aftermath, and Natasha felt the same sensation now as she did when she watched 22 glide away with the flying wing in Greenland: she wanted to run.

It took every ounce of her self-control to remain in that room.

"That definitely wasn't on our end," Clint told her when their eyes met. "Someone over there cut the feed."

"We need to get out there," Natasha said. The statement was unnecessary: it was clear from the look in her companions' eyes that they were just as keen for a fight with 22 as she was. "Get an exact location."

"Let me call Bruce," Stark muttered, digging his phone from his pocket and swiping his thumb across the screen.

"How exactly are we getting out there?" Clint asked as Stark jogged out of the room—off to a floor with better reception. "We have a two-seater plane and Stark's bodysuit."

"Thor can fly," she said, glancing at Steve. "And the Captain will fit in the cargo hold without a problem."

"Fine by me," Steve told her with a nod. "As long as we get there before Fury is compromised…"

Her eyes flitted to the black screen and she licked her lips: someone was definitely going to die for this.

* * *

"Get down to the command room," Tony ordered as he hurried passed the kitchen. He heard Thor say something in return, but he barely broke stride. There were very few places in this piece of shit base that actually gave his phone some sort of decent signal, and they didn't have any time to waste. Although he may not have been Fury's number one fanboy, he wasn't about to see the director of one of the world's most powerful secret organizations get taken over by space guinea pigs.

He darted up the final flight of stairs in a flurry, stopping only when he reached the foyer of the base. The glass doors gave him a nice view of the outdoors, which included the pristine landing strip and an overview of the nearby harbour. Once his phone had full reception, he dialed for home.

"Hello, sir."

"Jarvis," Tony started, running a hand through his hair as he tried to slow his breathing. "I need you to track Fury's plane to its exact location. They've been boarded, and we need to get out there."

"I'll have the signal sent to your phone," the familiar voice told him, to which he nodded several times. "Anything else, sir?"

"Put Bruce on the phone."

There was a lengthy pause, which Jarvis added elevator music for, and Tony waited for his friend's voice to sound in the earpiece.

"Tony?"

"Bruce," he said with a small smile, pleased to hear the man after their time apart. "The aliens have taken Fury's ship."

"Jesus—"

"We're going after it once I get the ship's exact location," he explained. He knew that Bruce would have wanted to help if he could, but there wasn't enough time to fly his alter-ego out to bash some skulls in. "Protect Stark Tower."

"Do you think it's going to be taken?"

He licked his lips, his chest tightening at the thought. "I don't know… I do know that these bastards have tried to attack every single one of us in some way or another. They've gone for Fury, and Stark Tower would probably be another power source worth taking."

"I'll have Jarvis put the building on lockdown."

"Thanks," he said with a sigh. "Make sure Selvig and Darcy don't wander too far… They are potential targets too."

"Got it."

"And Pepper…" He stuttered over the name, his voice catching in his throat. What could he even say about Pepper? Pepper needed him. Pepper had lost their baby: a miscarriage that couldn't have been predicted, and was actually quite common—according to the medical files he hacked into anyway. Pepper, who had left him the most heart-wrenching voicemail over a week and a half ago that told him not to come home, to fight for the world, had been in tears. And he couldn't do anything. He couldn't have done anything either, and he took her advice—her weeping request—to stay in Norway and get to the bottom of all this.

"She's doing well, Tony."

"Is she?"

How could she be? They had planned where the little tyke's room was going to be. Tony planned to paint it yellow—no gender biases in his household, thank you very much. He had been ready to be a dad; he had been ready to be a better dad than his.

"Actually, she's, uh…" Bruce tapered off momentarily, and it sounded like he was moving somewhere, his voice still low. "She's almost… _too_ fine."

He blinked rapidly, processing the information and trying to imagine what Pepper would look like if she was _too_ fine with anything. "What do you mean?"

"She's just happy a lot of the time," his friend told him. "I mean, I'm not going to tell her how to feel, but she doesn't even seem to remember what happened." He sighed again. "One day she was miserable, and the next she was fine."

"At least she's… she's happy, you know?" What else was he supposed to say? If Bruce, a medically trained professional, wasn't sure how a woman was supposed to feel after a miscarriage, how the hell did Tony have a chance? He barely understood women on their good days, and he definitely didn't know how to maturely handle them on their bad ones.

"Look, I know you have a lot on your plate over there," Bruce said after a drawn-out silence, "but just… try to get home soon, okay?"

"Will do."

"And don't get yourself infected along the way."

"I'll try."

"Because I'm not dealing with that."

"_Alright_," he said with a laugh. "Enjoy sitting at home with primetime TV… You're missing all the fun."

"Ha." The phone's line cut out shortly after, and Tony searched through his personal applications to find the one that would connect him to one of his servers at home. Moments later, he had a small green light blinking over Amsterdam that signalled Fury's location, and, phone in hand, he hurried back down into the depths of the base with a plan in mind.

Attack.

* * *

Loki awoke to the sound of dishes clattering on the ground, and he shot up, eyes searching for the source of the commotion. According to the clock over Max's bed, it was still early in the morning—just after eight—and the sun was hidden behind a thick layer of grey clouds in the window beyond the doorway. Rubbing his eyes, he scanned the room's entirety and found nothing that could have made such a clamour. Max was still asleep, on her side and curled protectively around her wounded arm. Their things were stacked neatly on another chair, and he wondered if the nurse had tidied up while they slept.

He heard voices this time, and as he shook the sleep from his mind, he realized something was different. The chair he slept on, even with the fluffed pillow, was rigid and unyielding, and yet his body felt no pain. There was no stiffness in his joints or neck, and it felt as though he had slept for an eternity, not merely a few hours. Frowning, he rose to his feet: the room looked clearer now than it had last night. He knew the clarity hadn't come from a lack of alcohol in his system. No, this was different. He could see each crease in Max's blanket in finite detail, and as his eyes swept across her face, it was as if he was seeing her skin's hue for the very first time: paler than it was when he first saw her, and yet smoother than he had ever seen it.

Loki felt in control. As he darted out into the hall, he felt lucid and clear for the first time in eons it seemed. He paused when he saw a duo of nurses hurry out of a room at the end of the hall, one holding a metallic tray and the other a cluster of damaged dishes; that was what had jolted him awake. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of sterile hospital linens and various odours of the patients. His senses were heightened.

No, not heightened—his senses were _normal_. His fingers twitched when he looked down at them, and with each step he took toward the nearby bathroom at the end of the hall, he felt a gravity to his movements that he had not felt for months. Pleased to find the washroom empty, Loki locked himself inside and stared at his reflection in the mirror; he could see the streak marks leftover from whoever had last cleaned. The man who gazed back at him looked no different today than he would have yesterday, and yet Loki knew everything had changed.

Turning back, he grasped the metal bar next to the toilet, and without any real exertion, he dragged it off the wall, nails and all. He set the bar down gently, careful not to make any more noise than necessary, and then watched with wicked delight as he turned it into a trash can with, once again, minimal effort.

Senses, strength, magic… Godliness.

For his final test, he willed for a duplicate, eyes shut and hand extended. He was woefully out of practice, but after two tries, he opened his eyes and stared back into the holographic gaze of himself. Licking his lips, he circled the double twice before willing it away; the being vanished before he could run his hand through it, but he knew that it had been real.

He had finally done it. In Odin's eyes, Loki had learned his lesson: he appreciated mankind. Running a hand through his shaggy hair, he wondered just how he had actually come to such a point in his life. However, as he thought back over the most recent months, he realized that not only had his behaviour changed, but his attitude too.

"Ridiculous."

He couldn't find another word for it. He had lived through Odin's punishment, just as Thor had, and the All-father had fairly returned his powers. A part of him had always wondered if Odin would simply leave him mortal for the rest of eternity, using this punishment as an excuse to kill Loki without actually getting any blood on his hands. And yet here he stood, restored once more to his former self, and he hadn't even realized he was close to it.

Leaning back against the sink, Loki folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows creased in concentration. He could leave at this very moment. He could call up to Heimdall and ask to return to Asgard, and surely the gatekeeper would bring the reformed prince to the realm. He could vanish just as quickly as he arrived, leaving all those he had met in the dust. Or, if he desired, he could branch out on his own, find a new realm to cultivate now that he was once again a being to contend with.

He wouldn't be able to stand the solitude. Alone with his thoughts and regrets, Loki would surely tumble right back down into the pit of madness without another being there to keep him company, even if he had an Asgardian's power again. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he knew that there were two people he would take with him into the stars. He refused to acknowledge one, but the other lay in a bed down that very corridor. When she was well, Loki would take her away from the mundane. Max had fallen for him as a mortal, but she would see the true depth of his ability now, the strength of his will.

She would never leave him.

After quickly splashing some water on his face, he dried his hands and smoothed them down the front of his shirt, unable to keep from smiling. He was free. Free from human constraints, free from the boredom that this life entailed. Once again, he was a big player, a force to be reckoned with, and it would only be a matter of time before the worlds realized it. He would give Max a few weeks to recover, during which he would carefully break the news to her of his true personage. When she accepted his gracious invitation to leave Earth for something better, he would take her away.

And perhaps one day, in the distant future, he would give her a throne.

He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away. No, he couldn't have any of those, not when he had just earned his power back. Although he may not have thought that humanity was a weak species that he needed to dominate, he still had dreams of a throne, of power, of respect. However, if this experience had taught him anything, it was that he was a patient man, and those dreams could wait until the time was right for them to resurface.

When he returned to Max's room, he saw that she had shifted about, but was still asleep. He hadn't the heart to wake her, and instead settled back down into his chair. Fingers knitted together, he sunk deep into contemplation about what his future might bring: where he ought to go, what he ought to do, and how he ought to go about it. He was so lost in his own head that he barely noticed when Max finally awoke, rustling in the various blankets and sitting up with a wince.

"Hi."

"Good morning," he greeted softly, shuffling down toward the head of the bed with his chair. She extended her uninjured hand to him, which he took with both of his, and he kissed the tips of her fingers. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a truck," she said with a heavy sigh. There were circles around her eyes from a lack of sleep, and Loki briefly wished he could give her just a taste of what it felt like to not be contained by a human body's frailty. "Can you pass me some water?"

"Yes, yes, of course," he muttered. There was a small tray sitting on the bedside table, and Loki quickly filled a glass for her. She accepted it with a shaky hand, and finished its entirety in one go.

"Hangover_ plus_ a concussion is probably the biggest fuck you I've ever experienced," she told him weakly, leaning back against her plethora of pillows, eyes drifting shut. "My insurance better cover this room."

"I'll see to it." If she needed something paid for, he still had access to Stark's funds; surely he wouldn't miss whatever pittance it took to cover the cost of the room. However, Max shook her head, wincing again as she did it.

"No, it's fine," she insisted, eyes flickering open. "I'm sure it's covered."

"Alright." He tried to speak soothingly, as she seemed to grow more and more distressed physically the longer she was awake. Settling down in his chair, he reclaimed her hand and stroked the soft skin with his thumbs. "How is the wrist?"

"Throbbing like a bitch."

"I can imagine," he chuckled. "I'm going to pick up your medications before we leave."

"Ugh, I'm going to be so embarrassing on drugs," she groaned, taking her hand back from him and setting it across her forehead, careful to avoid the bandage. "I always react so badly with painkillers… Nolan has so many videos of me after I got my wisdom teeth out—"

"I'm sure it's endearing," he told her, cutting her off before she could travel too far down that road, "and possibly a little humiliating, which I'll enjoy."

Her smile was small, but he still caught it before it disappeared. She sighed again, seeming to put a lot of effort into sitting upright fully and pushing some of the covers away. The plastic tubing in her arm seemed to throw her off, and Loki helped get it around the bed frame so that it wouldn't tug at her when she moved.

"So, I know we should talk about last night," she said as he returned to his seat, "but I just… My head can't take that conversation right now."

"I understand."

Loki didn't even want to start on the ridiculous spat they had had the previous night. All of his petty jealousies of _Ben_ seemed unfounded and pointless: Loki was a god once more, and therefore he automatically had the advantage. Let Ben stare adoringly at his woman, because Max was never going to concede to her friend's desires—_especially_ when she realized what she had instead.

"Oh, good, you guys are up."

Loki glanced back at the door and nodded when he saw Max's nurse, Helen, standing before him in the same outfit he had last seen her in. Her hair looked a little more scraggly, and she certainly appeared exhausted; Loki assumed her shift was finally coming to a close.

"Are those jello cups?" Max asked as the woman stepped inside, and only then did Loki notice that while she had a clipboard in one hand, she had two plastic cups of brightly coloured gelatine in the other.

"You asked for them last night."

"I did?"

"For breakfast, yup."

"Oh my _god,_ embarrassing," Max muttered, her cheeks tinting when she caught him staring at her. "Thanks... for doing it."

Helen grinned at her as she handed the jello over to Loki, and he stepped out of the way to let the woman work. She ran through the same tests that the doctor had done the night before, and Max seemed to pass every one of them. Unfortunately, by the time they were finished, Max looked more disorientated than she had when she first woke up, and he wanted to get her out of here before anyone did any further damage. The last straw was the removal of the plastic tubing in her hand, which made his lady whimper.

"Here's the prescription for her painkillers," Helen told him once she was up and away from Max's bed, stuffing a sheet of paper in his hands. "You can pick them up at the pharmacy downstairs. _No_ excessive activities for the rest of the week, understood?"

"Yes, completely," he said as he folded the sheet in half and stuffed it in his pocket. "Thank you."

"Feel better, hun."

He watched the woman give Max a wave, shoot him a smile, and then disappear into the hall. He could hear her shoes squeak, however, until she reached the doorway at the end of the corridor.

"Ugh, let's get out of here," Max sighed, tentatively swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and easing to her feet. Loki moved with the intention of grabbing her folded clothes—though he had no idea how he was going to get her to squeeze into her ridiculously tight jeans in her current state—but when he heard her stumble, he whipped back to catch her. Luckily, he managed to avoid her damaged arm, but she still yelped when he grabbed hold of her.

His strength was tenfold what it had been a week ago: he needed to remember that.

"I'm sorry," he murmured as he gently set her right. It would be easier to handle her when she wasn't so broken, and he knew that if he made the effort, he could touch her without hurting her. Soon, it would become second nature again.

"It's fine," she told him shakily, clinging to his forearm as she steadied herself. "I'm just a wimp right now… Everything hurts."

"I know," he assured her. "Let's go home. I'll make you tea, and you can have full control over the television."

"I have that anyway," she teased, tilting her head up and smiling at him. "Don't kid yourself."

"I had hoped you were delirious enough to forget."

"Are you going to make me all of my meals?" she asked as he grabbed her shirt. When he turned back, he saw her trying to peel the hospital down off over her wrapped arm, her face screwed in pain. He set forward to help her, but she managed to tackle the task alone.

"Don't push your luck," he laughed. She let him help her tug the shirt on over her head, and he was happy that it was loose fabric: the jeans were going to be a nightmare. "All of your food for the next few days _will_ be cooked elsewhere and delivered."

"At least I'm not going to starve."

"No, I wouldn't let that happen."

The way she smiled up at him made him want to kiss her, but he had to refrain from anything of that sort until she could move on her own. Instead, he grabbed the folded pair of dark jeans off the nearby chair, and then glanced down at her bare legs: it was always such a shame to cover them up.

"Well, this is going to suck," Max muttered as she too glowered at the jeans, which seemed smaller than usual. "Maybe I can just go like this… I've got underwear on, I should be fine."

"Max—"

"I'm kidding," she said weakly, placing her good hand back against the footrest of the bed. "Come on, we're college educated professionals… We can get me into a pair of pants."

"See, you say that," Loki started, "but these are absurdly small."

She nibbled her lower lip for a moment, and then shrugged. "I may or may not have had to lay down to actually get them on."

"_Woman_—"

"We've got this, shush," she snapped, holding out her hand now to take the pants from him. "Just go handle the painkillers that are going to make me loopy as fuck… I'll… I'll handle these demons."

"I like this plan much better," he told her honestly. He also decided that he was going to find her a pair of slippers in the hospital gift shop; there was no way she was going anywhere in her heels. She waved him off, her concentration entirely on her trousers, and Loki tried to open the door only slightly to spare her modesty.

However, he came to a dead halt in the hall when he saw a woman standing not five feet from Max's door. She appeared to be a patient, standing there in a gown that was similar to Max's, but there was a dead stare in her eyes that seemed all too familiar for comfort. The dark green orbs flickered up to his when he cleared his throat, and she took off in the opposite direction when he stepped toward her. There was no noticeable limp that indicated a discomfort in a foreign body; she could have merely been another patient, or she could have been a Pagurolid who knew how to handle its new skin.

He wasn't about to risk leaving her alone now. Instead, he waited outside the door, smirking when he heard her grunting a little, and then knocked when thing had settled.

"Did you get the stuff?" she asked as he poked his head in. "That was fast."

"No, I thought I'd rather have you there," he told her. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I'm _fine_," she groaned, creeping toward him with almost frustrating slowness. "Let's just get my stuff and get out of here."

Once she was in the hall, her shoes dangling from her good hand, Loki wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her out, inching along for her sake. Should anything or anyone attempt to harm them along the way, Max would undoubtedly discover she had been cohabitating with a god long before he planned to tell her. The subject was delicate, just as she was in that moment, and timing was _everything_.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**So I would just like to say that I am super sick at the moment. A co-worker came to work the other day sounding like death, and after a half hour of working together, I knew I was going to get sick. Sure enough, here we are: I can't breathe out of my nose, and my head feels like it's imploding. **

**HOWEVER. I was able to get a chapter done, and it's clearly a big one. I know people have expressed concerns about tying everything up before the end comes, which is soon, but just know that I've got a plan! SPOILER: I won't leave you with an awful cliffhanger or anything. **

**That being said, I have the first six chapters of the sequel planned out in detail. I've decided to go with "Ghost Town" as the title, and the prologue of that will be posted on the same day as the epilogue for this story. Therefore, there won't be any monstrous gaps between the ending of this and the start of its sequel: we're trucking right along. **

**I had always, always, always pictured Loki staying with Max once he had his powers restored. That scene was one of the earliest I had planned for the story, but I knew I had to have a strong enough foundation between them for it to make sense. He still wants to leave: Earth is a bit boring and I'm sure his ego is still bruised from a public defeat. However, he doesn't want to do it alone anymore, and that's where I wanted to get him. **

**EDIT: I've updated the playlist for this story! The link is on my homepage!**

**Anyway. I need cold meds and reality TV to get through this sickness. Thank you all for your lovely reviews and feedback! You are so incredibly supportive, and I wouldn't have had the drive to write this much of a story for this long (with the intention of writing it as a series) without you! Cheers to you, darlings!**


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